Текст пісні
A toast of honor to good old John Bull
Aboard a sparred wherry shuttle
To the frigate who's stern mast isn't true
As the girls fading off waving in calico
Beware the bridgehead three barrel heads past
Where the rigging got heavy weighing out
Whoever was the most crass
Singing I will be fallen before John Bull
When the mooring's rotten
And the tether's worn thin
And sails are filling up in the wind
All in all it's a bit like falling
It's a bit like falling
It's a bit like falling
It's a bit like falling
A bit like falling in love
It's colder now than the bottom of the Canada moors
Walking a borzoi in the Alps in nineteen and twenty four
Cursing at the snow with quinine breath
When the mooring's rotten and the tether's worn thin
And sails are filling up in the wind
Get the feeling that it's a bit like falling
It's a bit like falling
It's a bit like falling
It's a bit like falling
A bit like falling in love