Fiddler's Green
Whale Song
If I had the wings of a gull me boys, I'd spread them and fly homeI'd leave old Greenland?s icy ground for of right whales there is noneAnd the weather?s rough and the winds do blow and there?s little comfort hereI'd sooner be snug in an Edinburg pub a-drinking of strong beerOh a man must be mad or want money bad to venture catching whalesFor he may be drowned when the whale turns around or his head be smashed by the tailThough the work seems grand to the young green hand and his heart is high when he goesIn a very short burst you?ll hear the curse and the cry of "There she blows"Now there she blows againThis fight is all insaneIt's time for mutinyTo end this miserySo take me home where I belongI won't go on with sth. wrongDon't count on me and set me freeIt's time to end that miseryAll hands on deck now for God?s sake, move briskly if you canAnd you stumble on deck both dizzy and sick, and for the life you don't give a damnAnd high overhead the great fish sped and the mate gave the whale the ironAnd soon the blood in apurple flood from the spout whole comes a-flyingThese trails we bear for nigh four years till the ship she points for homeWe?re due for our toil a bonus on the oil and an equal share of the boneWhen we go to the agent to settle for the trip when we find we?ve cause to lamentFor we slaved away four years of our lives and earned about three pounds ten
From Letras Mania