(Traditional)
|
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
|
On March the eighteenth day
|
We hoisted our colors to the top of the mast
|
And for Greenland sailed away, brave boys
|
And for Greenland sailed away
|
|
The lookout in the crosstrees stood
|
With spyglass in his hand
|
There's a whale, there's a whale
|
And a whalefish he cried
|
And she blows at every span, brave boys
|
She blows at every span
|
|
The captain stood on the quarter deck
|
The ice was in his eye
|
Overhaul, overhaul! Let your gibsheets fall
|
And you'll put your boats to sea, brave boys
|
And you'll put your boats to sea
|
|
Our harpoon struck and the line played out
|
With a single flourish of his tail
|
He capsized the boat and we lost five men
|
And we did not catch the whale, brave boys
|
And we did not catch the whale
|
|
The losing of those five jolly men
|
It grieved the captain sore
|
But the losing of that fine whalefish
|
Now it grieved him ten times more, brave boys
|
Now it grieved him ten times more
|
|
Now Greenland is a barren land
|
A land that bares no green
|
Where there's ice and snow, and the whalefishes blow
|
And the daylight's seldom seen, brave boys
|
And the daylight's seldom seen
|
|
-----------------
|
Greenland Whale Fisheries
|
| The Pogues |
