If I had the wings of a gull me boys, Id spread them and fly home Id leave old Greenlands icy ground for of right whales there is none And the weathers rough and the winds do blow and theres little comfort here Id sooner be snug in an Edinburg pub a-drinking of strong beer
Oh a man must be mad or want money bad to venture catching whales For he may be drowned when the whale turns around or his head be smashed by the tail Though the work seems grand to the young green hand and his heart is high when he goes In a very short burst youll hear the curse and the cry of "There she blows"
Now there she blows again This fight is all insane Its time for mutiny To end this misery
So take me home where I belong I wont go on with sth. wrong Dont count on me and set me free Its time to end that misery
All hands on deck now for Gods sake, move briskly if you can And you stumble on deck both dizzy and sick, and for the life you dont give a damn And high overhead the great fish sped and the mate gave the whale the iron And soon the blood in a purple flood from the spout whole comes a-flying
These trails we bear for nigh four years till the ship she points for home Were due for our toil a bonus on the oil and an equal share of the bone When we go to the agent to settle for the trip when we find weve cause to lament For we slaved away four years of our lives and earned about three pounds tenTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
