Now you jolly sailor lads, come listen to my tale,
I'm sure you will have cause to pity me,
I was a damned young fool in the port of Liverpool,
When I called there on my first port home from sea.

Oh Maggie, Maggie May
They have taken her away
To slave upon Van Dieman's cruel shore.
Oh, you robbed so many whalers, and dosed so many sailors
But you'll never cruise 'round Peter Street no more.

I was staying at the Home, from a voyage to Sierre Leone,
And two-pound-ten a month was all my pay,
As I jingled with my tin, I was easy taken in,
By a little girl up there called Maggie May.

When I steered into her I hadn't got a care,
I was cruising up and down old Canning Place,
She was dressed in a gown so fine, like a frigate of the line,
And being a sailorman, gave chase.

She gave me a saucy nod, and I, like a farmer's clod,
Let her take me line abreast in tow,
And under all plain sail, we ran before the gale
And to the Crow's Nest Tavern we did go.

Next morning when I woke, I found that I was broke,
I hadn't got a penny to me name,
So I had to pop me suit, me John L.s and me boots,
Down in Park Lane pawn shop number nine.

Oh you thieving Maggie May, you robbed me of me pay
When I slept with you last night ashore,
Oh guilty the jury found her, of robbing a homeward bounder
And she'll never roll down Park Lane [Peter Street, Paradise Street] no more

She was chained and sent away from Liverpool one day,
The lads all cheered as she sailed down the bay,
And every sailor lad, he only was too glad
To see the old whore out to Botany Bay.

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