Letras
O you Western Ocean labourers,
I 'll have you all beware,
When you're working on a packet-ship,
No dungaree oil skins wear,
But have you a big monkey jacket
Already at your command,
you 'll bid fareweel to the Virgin Rocks
On the Banks of the Newfoundland.
As I lay on my bunk one night
A-dreaming all alone,
I dreamt I was in Liverpool,
'Way up by Marylebone,
With my true love there beside of me,
And a jug of ale in my hand,
But I woke quite brokenhearted boys
On the Banks of Newfoundland.
We will rub around
and scrub around
wi'holy stone and sand
and we'll bid fareweel to the Virgin Rocks
on te banks of Newfoundland
We had one female passenger,
Bridget Riley was her name,
she was fourteen years transported boys
for playing not the game
But she tore up her flannel petticoats
To make mittens for our hands,
For she couldn't see the poor boys freeze
On the Banks of Newfoundland.
We will rub around
and scrub around
wi'holy stone and sand
and we'll bid fareweel to the Virgin Rocks
on te banks of newfoundland
And now we're off Sandy Hook, my boys,
And the ground all covered with snow.
The tug-boat take up our hawser
And for New York we will tow;
And when we get to the Black Ball dock,
All the boys and girls there will stand,
for if we are here we cannot be there
on the Banks of Newfoundland.
We will rub around
and scrub around
wi'holy stone and sand
and we'll bid fareweel to the Virgin Rocks
on te banks of Newfoundland
We will rub around
and scrub around
wi'holy stone and sand
and we'll bid fareweel to the Virgin Rocks
on te banks of Newfoundland