| lyric | It was Friday morn when we set sail
and we sere not far from the land.
When our captain he spied a mermaid so fair,
with a comb and a glass in her hand.
And the ocean waves do roll,
Chorus:
And the stormy winds do blow,
and we poor sailors are skipping at the top,
while the klandlubbers lied down below,
below, below,
while the landlubbers lie down below.
Then up spoke the captain of our gallant ship,
And a well-spoken man was he;
‘I have married a wife in Salem town,
And tonight she a widow will be.’
Then up spoke the cook of our gallant ship,
And a greasy old cook was he;
‘I care more for my kettles and my pans
Than I do for the roaring of the sea.’
Then up spoke the cabin boy of our gallant ship,
And a dirty little brat was he;
‘I have friends in Boston town,
They don’t care a ha-penny for me.
Then three times around went of our gallant ship,
And three times around went she;
And the third time that she went around
She sank to the bottom of the sea. |