All for me grog
Well it’s all for me grog,
me jolly, jolly grog
It’s all for me beer and tobacco
For I spent all me tin,
on the lassies drinking gin
Far across the Western Ocean
I must wander
Where are me boots, me navy, navy boots
They ’re all gone for beer and tobacco
For the heels they ’re worn out
and the toes are kicked about
And the soles are looking out
for better weather
Where is me shirt, me noggin’, noggin’ shirt
It ’s all gone for beer and tobacco
For the collar is all worn
and the sleeves they are all torn
And the tail is looking out
for better weather
Where is me wife, me noggin’, noggin’ wife
She’s all gone for beer and tobacco
For I spent all me dough
on the lassies don’t you know
Far across the Western Ocean
I must wander
I’m sick in the head and I haven’t been to bed
Since first I came ashore from me slumber
For I spent all me dough
on the lassies don’t you know
Far across the Western Ocean
I must wander
Bully in the alley
So help me Bob, I’m bully in the alley.
Way, hey, bully in the alley.
Help me Bob, I’m bully in the alley.
Bully down in Shinbone Al.
Oh Sally is the girl that I love dearly
Sally is the girl that I spliced nearly.
For seven long years I courted Sally.
But all she did was dilly-dilly-dally.
I bought her gowns and I bought her laces.
Took her out to all the places.
So I’ll leave Sal and I’ll be a sailor.
I’ll leave Sal and ship aboard a whaler.
When I get home I’ll marry Sally.
We’ll have kids and count them by the tally.
Cape Cod Girls
Cape Cod girls don’t use no combs
Haul away, haul away,
Well they comb their hair
with the codfish bone and
we’re bound away for Australia.
So heave her up my bully bully boys
Haul away, haul away,
Heave her up and
don’t you make a noise and
we’re bound away for Australia.
And Cape Cod kids don’t have no sledge
Haul away, haul away,
Well they sledge down a hill
on a codfish head and
we’re bound away for Australia.
And Cape Cod cats don’t have no tails
Haul away, haul away,
Well they lost them all in
a north east gale and
we’re bound away for Australia.
And Cape Cod ladies don’t have no frills
Haul away, haul away,
Well they’re plain and skinny as
a codfish gill and
we’re bound away for Australia.
Get up Jack, John sit down
Ships may come and ships may go,
as long as the seas do roll.
And a sailor lad just like his dad
he loves his rum and bowl.
A lass ashore he do adore,
a woman who's plump and round
When your money's all gone
it's the same old song
“Get up Jack, sit down!”
Come along, come along, me Jolly brave boys,
there's plenty more grog in the jar.
We'll plough the briny ocean with a jolly roving star.
Refrein
When Jack's ashore he'll make his way,
to some old boarding house.
He's welcomed in with rum and gin,
likewise with fork and Scousea.
And he'll spend and spend and never offend
till he lies drunk on the ground.
Refrein
Then Jack will slip aboard a ship
bound for India or Japan.
In Asia there, the ladies fair,
all love a sailor man.
He'll go ashore and he won't scorn,
to buy some maid a gown.
Refrein
When Jack is worn and weatherbeat,
too old to sail about.
They'll let him stop in some grog shop,
till eight bells call him out.
Then he'll raise hands high and loud
he'll cry, "Thank God I'm homeward bound.
Refrein
Farewell to Tarwathie
Farewell to Tarwathie, adieu Mormond Hill
And the dear land of Crimond, I bid you farewell
I’m bound out for Greenland and ready to sail
In hopes to find riches in hunting the whale
Farewell to my comrades, for a while we must part
And likewise the dear lass who first won my heart
The cold coast of Greenland my love will not chill
And the longer my absence, more loving she’ll feel
Our ship is well rigged and she’s ready to sail
The crew they are anxious to follow the whale
Where the icebergs do float
and the stormy winds blow
Where the land and the ocean
is covered with snow
The cold coast of Greenland is barren and bare
No seed-time nor harvest is ever known there
And the birds here sing sweetly
in mountain and dale
But there’s no bird in Greenland
to sing to the whale
There is no habitation for a man to live there
And the king of that country
is the fierce Greenland bear
And there’ll be no temptation
to tarry long there
With our ship bumper full
we will homeward repair
The Grey Funnel Line
Don’t mind the rain or the rolling sea
The weary night never worries me
But the hardest time in a sailor’s day
Is to watch the sun as it dies away
Here’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.
The finest ship that sails the sea
Is still a prison for the likes of me
But give me wings like Noah’s dove
I’ll fly up harbour to the girl I love
Here’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.
O, once my heart was wild and free
Like a flashing spar on the open sea
But now that spar has washed ashore
And come to rest at my true love’s door
Here’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.
Each time I gaze behind the screws
Makes me long for Saint Peter’s shoes
I’d dance on down that Walker Shore
And rest in my true love’s arms once more
Here’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.
O Lord if dreams were only real
I’d feel my hands on that wooden wheel
And with all my heart I’d turn her round
And tell the boys that we’re homeward bound
Here’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.
I’ll pass the time like some machine
Until blue waters turn to green
Then I’ll dance on down that walk ashore
And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more.
And it’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.
Grimsby Lads
Here’s to the Grimsby lads out at the trawling
Here’s to the lads on the billowing deep
Shooting their nets and heaving and hauling
All the night long, and the landsmen asleep.
They sail in the cold and the grey of the morning,
Leaving their wives and their families behind;
Following the fishing, fulfilling their calling,
Their charts are all ready the shoals for to find.
Away to the north where they know will be waiting
Frost and black ice and the lash of the gale,
Trawling and hoping and anticipating
A ship bumper-full and safe homeward to sail.
From Scotland’s grey shore
to the cold coast of Iceland
Through White Sea and Faeroe
they’re working their way,
Through Dogger and Forties to stormy Bear Island:
Eighteen long hours is the fisherman’s day.
The nets are inboard and the catch lies a-gleaming;
There’s gutting and washing and packing below.
Ten days of fishing and home they’ll be steaming:
A thousand miles gone and a thousand to go.
On Humber’s brown water the new sun is gleaming;
To the fisherman’s prayer the breeze sings amen.
The smoky grey town in the stillness is dreaming;
Her sons from the waters return once again.
If I were a blackbird
Oh if I were a blackbird, could whistle and sing
I’d follow the ship that my true love sails in
And in the top rigging I would there build my nest
And I’d flutter my wings o’er her lily-white breast
I am a young sailor, my story is sad
For once I was carefree and a bold sailor lad
I courted a lassie by night and by day
But now she has left me and gone far away
Or if I were a scholar and could handle a pen
One secret love letter to my true love I’d send
And I’d tell of my sorrow, my grief and my pain
Since she’s gone and left me in yon flowery glen
I sailed o’er the ocean, my fortune to seek
Though I missed her caress and her kiss on my cheek
I returned and I told her my love was still warm
But she turned away lightly and great was her scorn
I offered to take her to Donnybrook Fair
And to buy her fine ribbons to tie up her hair
I offered to marry and to stay by her side
But she said in the morning she sailed with the tide
My parents they chide me and will not agree
Saying that me and my false love married should never be
Ah but let them deprive me, or let them do what they will
While there’s breath in my body, she’s the one I love still
Garrenkwak
En wie rijk wil worden op z’n gemak
Die doet er maar een driffie met de garrenkwak.
Falderalderie, falderaldera
Hoera, hoera, hoera.
Van de Volendammerhoek tot aan de Rijsendam
Daar schep je je in de garren lam.
En van de Rijsendam tot ’t hoekje van de Nes
Daar vang je bepaald een lid of zes.
En van de Nes tot Uiendammerhoek
Daar vang je de garren met je kwakkenbroek.
En van Uiendam tot aan het IJ
Daar vang je d’r ook wat aaltjes bij.
En van het IJ tot aan het hart
Daar vang je de garren klein en zwart.
En van het hart tot aan het Gooi
Daar vang je de garren o zo mooi.
En van het Gooi tot aan de Knar
Daar vang je de garren kant en klaar.
En komen ze dan zondag in de stad
Dan vragen ze: "He-je Garretje al had?".
En zitten ze dan ’s middags bij Piet Jonk
Dan zeggen ze dat het water stonk.
Five o’clock in the morning
It’s five o’clock in the morning
Time to get ready, we’re sailing away
It’s five o’clock in the morning
Time to get ready to sail
We rise in the morning,
sail out on the tide
Silent we slip from, the quay
With the gulls, overhead
and the seals alongside
Proudly we head out, to sea
We’ll fish in the Minches
fair weather, or foul
Living our lives on the sea
It’s hard and it’s rough
and the pay’s not enough
Yet what other life can there be
A trawlerman’s plight
is to work day and night
Grabbing hour’s sleep in between
Casting the nets out
and hauling them in
Sometimes not a fish to be seen
We’ll be cold, tired and hungry
And drenched to the skin
As we head back to Stornoway town
With our catch safely landed
we’ll have a good dram
In The Clachan, The Lewis, or The Crown
Ga mee met de VOC
Ga mee met de VOC, zo’n reis zul je nooit vergeten
Je snuift zo een jaar of twee, frisse lucht van zee
Wat een stank in het ruim, waar we zingen,
slapen en dineren
In een hoekje spijs verteren, want er is geen plee
En het bad hier aan boord,
is alleen maar voor die hoge heren
Stank voor dank dat zal je leren, leve de VOC
Ga mee met de VOC, zo’n reis zul je nooit vergeten
Pest en pleuris, diaree, gaan gezellig mee
Wat een pijn, chirurgijn, en hij zegt,
ja dat wordt snijden jongen
Tering zit in beide longen, daar leef je niet lang mee
Chirurgijn, assistent, is de slagersknecht
dan niet zo schrander
Snijden kan hij als geen ander, leve de VOC
Ga mee met de VOC, zo’n reis zul je nooit vergeten
’t harde leven op de zee, valt geweldig mee
Je dineert uit een bak,
die je deelt met nog vijf lotgenoten
Twee zijn er al dood geschoten, voor de lieve vree
In het leven aan boord, kun je kiezen tussen deserteren
Ziek zijn , dood gaan of verteren, leve de VOC
Ga mee met de VOC, zo’n reis zul je nooit vergeten
’t harde leven op de zee, valt geweldig mee
Roll the cotton down
Away down south where I was born,
Roll the cotton down.
That’s where the niggers blow their horn.
Oh, roll the cotton down.
Roll the cotton,
Roll the cotton Moses,
Roll the cotton.
Oh, roll the cotton down.
When I lived down in Tennessee,
My old massa then said to me.
Were ever you in Mobile Bay,
There we rolled the cotton day by day.
One dollar a day is a darkey’s pay,
Five dollar gets the white man each day.
When I was young before the war,
Times were gay on the Mississippi shore.
When the work was over at the close of day,
’T is then you’d hear the banjo play.
But since the war there’s been a change,
To the darkey’s every thing seems strange.
No more you’ll hear the banjo play,
For the old times have passed away.
Sailor’s prayer
This dirty town has been my home
since last time I was sailing
But I’ll not stay another day,
I’d sooner be out whaling
Oh, Lord above, send down a dove,
With beak as sharp as razors
To cut the throat of them there blokes
What sell bad beer to sailors
Paid off me score and then ashore,
me money soon was flying
With Judy Lee upon my knee
And in my ear a-lying
With my new-found friends, my money spent
just as fast as winking
But when I make to clean the slate,
the landlord says: "keep drinking"
With me money gone and clothes in pawn
and Judy set for leaving
Six months of pay ’gone in three days,
but Judy isn’t grieving
When the crimp comes round, I’ll take his pound
and his hand I’ll be shaking
Tomorrow morn sail for the Horn
just as dawn is breaking
So for one last trip from port I’ll ship
but next time back I’m swearing
I’ll settle down in my hometown
and go no more seafaring
Shaver
When I was a little hairless boy,
I went to sea in Stormy’s employ,
I sailed a way across the sea,
When I was just a shaver.
Oh, I was weary of the sea,
When I was just a shaver.
Oh, they whacked me up an’ whacked me down,
The mate he cracked me on the crown,
They whacked me round an’ round an’ round,
When I went aloft through the lubber’s hole,
The mate he cried, "O Lord darn yer soul!
Ye’ll do, me son, what ye’r blooming well told!"
When we loop’d around about Cape Horn,
I wished that I had never been born,
And I wished I was home all save and sound.
When we left behind the ice an’ rain,
An’ once more to the tropics we came,
The mate came hazin’ me once again.
When we made port, well I skipped ship,
I had enough for one bloomin’ trip,
I’d stay ashore an’ never more ship.
Row on
Clouds are upon the summer sky
There’s thunder on the wind
Pull on, pull on and homeward hie
Nor give one look behind.
Row on, row on another day
May shine with brighter light
Ply, ply the oars and pull away
Thou must not come tonight.
Bear where thou goest the words of love
Say all that words can say
Changeless affections strength to prove
But speed upon the way.
Oh like yon river would I glide
To where my heart would be
My bark should soon outsail the tide
That hurries to the sea.
But yet a star shines constant still
Through yonder cloudy sky
And hope as bright my bosom stills
From faith that cannot die.
Row on, row on, God speed the way
Thou must not linger here
Clouds hang about the closing day
Tomorrow may be clear.
Three score and ten
Me thinks I see a hoist of craft,
spreading their sails alea,
As down the Humber they do glide,
all bound for the Northen Sea.
Me thinks I see on each small craft,
a crew with hearts so brave,
They went to earn their daily bread,
upon the restless waves.
And it’s three score and ten, boys and men
were lost from Grimsby-town.
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough,
many hundreds more were drowned,
Our herring craft, our trawlers,
our fishing smack as well,
They longed to fight the bitter night
and battle with the swell.
Me thinks I see them yet again
as they leave the land behind,
Casting their nets into the sea,
the fish in shoals to find.
Me thinks I see them yet again,
and all on board’s allright,
With the sails closed reefed
and the decks all cleared,
and the sidelight burning bright.
Me thinks I heard the skipper say:
"Now lads all hands on deck,
For the sky, to all appearances
looks like an approaching gale."
Me thinks I see them yet again,
after midnight hour is passed,
Their tiny crafts were battling still
against the icy blast.
October’s night with such a sight,
was never seen before,
There were masts and spars and broken yards,
came floating to the shore,
There was many a heart of sorrow,
there was many a heart so brave.
There was many a hearty fisherlad,
did find a watery grave.
Lowlands away
I dreamed a dream the other night,
Lowlands, Lowlands;
Lowlands away my John.
I dreamed a dream the other night;
my Lowlands Away!
My love she came all dressed in white,
yes white, yes white!
Lowlands away my John.
My love she came all dressed in white;
my Lowlands Away!
And bravely in her bosom fair,
yes fair, yes fair!
Lowlands away my John.
And bravely in her bosom fair;
my Lowlands Away!
No sound she made, no word she said,
no sound, no sound!
Lowlands away my John.
No sound she made, no word she said;
my Lowlands Away!
And then I ’woke to hear the call,
calling, calling!
Lowlands away my John.
And then I ’woke to hear the call;
my Lowlands away
Sloop John B.
We came on the sloop John B.
My Grandfather and me,
Around Nassau Town we did roam
Drinkin’ all night, we got in a fight
Well I feel so broken, I want to go home
So hoist up the John B. sails
See how the main sails set
Send for the captain ashore,
let me go home,
Let me go home, let me go home
Well I feel so broken, I want to go home.
The first mate he got drunk
And broke up the captain’s trunk,
The constable had to come, and take him away,
Sheriff Johnstone, please leave me alone,
Well I feel so broken, I want to go home!
The cook he got the fits,
threw away all of the grits,
Then he went and ate up all of the corn;
Sheriff Johnstone, please leave me alone,
this is the worst trip I ever was on.
Vem kan segla
Wie kan zeilen zonder wind
Roeien zonder spanen
Afscheid nemen van een vrind
Zonder een traan te laten?
Ik kan zeilen zonder wind
Roeien zonder spanen
Afscheid nemen van een vrind
Kan niet zonder tranen.
Weem kan seegla fur uutan wiend
Weem kan roe uutan oroer
Weem kan sjieljas froon wennen sien
Uutan at fé ellas torar?
Jaag kan seegla fur-uutan wiend
Jaag kan roe uutan oroer
Men ei sjieljas froon wennen mien
Uutan at fé ellas torar.
Who can sail without the wind
Who can row without oars
Who can say farewell to a friend
Without shedding tears?
I can sail without the wind
I can row without oars
I can’t say farewell to a friend
Without shedding tears.
Wer kann segeln ohne Wind
Fährt ohne Ruder ein Boot
Wer sagt einem Freund lebwohl
Ohne dass er weint?
Ich kann segeln ohne Wind
Ich kann fahren ohne Ruder
Doch sag keinem Freund lebwohl
Ohne dass ich weine.
Wie kan zeilen zonder wind
Roeien zonder spanen
Afscheid nemen van een vrind
Zonder een traan te laten?