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They took us jolly sailor lads A-fishing for the whale On the fourth day of August in 1864, Bound for Greenland we set sail. | |
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The lookout stood on the crosstrees high, With a spyglass in his hand "There's a whale, there's a whale, there's a whalefish," he cried, "And she blows at every span." | |
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The captain stood on the quarterdeck And a sod of a man was he. "Overhaul, overhaul, let your downy tackles fall, And we'll launch them boats to sea." | |
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We struck that whale and the line played out, But she gave a flurry with her tail And a boat capsized, we lost seven of our men, And we never caught that whale. | |
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Well the losin' of seven fine seamen, It grieved the captain sore But the losin' of the bloody sperm whale, It grieved him ten times more. | |
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Now Greenland is a horrid place Where our fisher lads have to go Where the rose and the lily never bloom in spring, No there's only ice and snow. | |