I'll let the poets say it best:
Oh I'm sailin' away my own true love
I'm sailin' away in the morning
Is there something I can send you from across the sea
From the place that I'll be landing ?
No, there's nothin' you can send me, my own true love
There's nothin' I wish to be ownin'
Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled
From across that lonesome ocean.
Oh, but I just thought you might want something fine
Made of silver or of golden
Either from the mountains of Madrid
Or from the coast of Barcelona ?
Take heed, take heed of the Western wind
Take heed of the stormy weather
And, yes, there is something you can send back to me
Spanish boots of Spanish leather.....
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