Cape Cod Girls
Cape Cod girls they don’t use no combs,
Resp: Heave away, haul away!
They comb their hair with them codfish bones.
Resp: We’re bound away for Australia!
Chorus:
So heave her up, me bully blly boys,
Heave away, haul away!
Heave her up, why don’t you make a noise?
We’re bound away for Australia!
Cape Cod boys they ain’t got no sleds,
They slides down hills on them codfish heads.
Cape cod mothers don’t bake no pies,
They feed their children codfish eyes.
Cape Cod doctors they don’t use no pills,
They dose their patients with them codfish gills.
Cape Cod cats they ain’t got no tails,
They got blown off in them nor’east gales.
Cape Cod dogs they ain’t got no bitr,
They lost it barking at the Cape Cod light.
Cape Cod women they don’t have to toil
They gets their pep from that codfish oil.
Can’t You Dance the Polka (New York Girls)
Capstan & bowline shanty from the late 19th century
Ye ‘prentice lads and seamen bold come listen to me song
I’ll tell ye how I met my fate when I was very young
‘Twas on the day I came from sea, a flash girl I did meet
She kindly asked me to a dance, ‘twas up on Peter Street.
Chorus:
Away you Santee, my dear Annie
Oh you New York girls, can’t you dance the polka
Some girls we passed along the way to me these words did say
Well, well old chap you’ll lose yer cap if you should steer that way
And when we got to Peter Street, we stopped at 44
Her mother and her sisters were there to greet us at the door.
When we got inside the house the drinks were passed around
The liquor was so awful strong me head when ‘round and round.
When the dancing it was over, we straight to bed did go
And little did I ever think she’d prove me overthrow.
When I awoke next morning, oh nothing could I find
But a woman’s shift and apron there upon the bed did lie.
Me watch and coat and 80 pounds with me fancy one had fled
And there was I, Jack-all-alone, stark naked in the bed.
Everything was quiet, the hour bein’ five o’clock
I put the shift and apron on and hauled off for t5he dock.
My shipmates saw me come aboard, to me these words did say
“Well Jack you look much prettier since last you went away.
The Old Man said, “Well Jack, me boy, I’m sure you could have found
A better suit than that, by far, to buy for eighty pounds.”
Well I could find a better suit if I only had the chance]
But I met this girl on Peter Street, she took me to a dance.
A Capital Ship
A capital ship for an ocean trip was the “Walloping Window Blind”
No wind that blew dismayed her crew Or troubled the captain’s mind
The man at the wheel was made to feel Contempt for the wildest blo-o-ow
Tho’ it often appeared when the gale had cleared That he’d been in his bunk below
Chorus:
So, blow ye winds, heigh-ho A-roving I will go
I’ll stay no more on England’s shore So let the music pla-a-ay
I’m off for the morning train I’ll cross the raging main
I’m off to my love with a boxing glove Ten thousand miles away
The bos’un’s mate was very sedate Yet fond of amusement too
He played hop-scotch with the starboard watch While the captain tickled the crew
The gunner we had was apparently mad For he sat on the after-ra-a-all
And fired salutes with the captain’s boots In the teeth of a booming gale
The captain sat on the commodore’s hat And dined in a royal way
Off pickles & figs & little roast pigs And gunnery bread each day
The cook was Dutch and behaved as such For the diet he served the crew
Was a number of tons of hot-cross buns Served up with sugar and glue
Then we all fell ill as mariners will On a diet that’s rough and crude
We shivered and shook as we dipped the cook In a tub of his gluesome food
All nautical pride we cast aside And we ran the vessel asho-o-ore
On the Gulliby Isles where the poopoo smiles And the rubbily-ubdugs roar
On rugabug bark from dawn till dark We dined till we all had grown
Uncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junk Came up from the Torrible Zone
She was stubby and square, but we didn’t much care So we merrily put to sea
And we left all the crew of the junk to chew On the bark of the rugabug tree
Chicken on a Raft
Cyril Tawney 1958
Skipper's in the wardroom drinking gin,
Resp: Hey -oh, chicken on a raft
I don't mind knocking but I ain't going in,
Resp: Hey -oh, chicken on a raft
'Jimmy's' laughing like a drain,
Resp: Hey -oh, chicken on a raft
Been looking at m' 'comic cuts' again.
Resp: Hey -oh, chicken on a raft
CHORUS
Chicken on a raft on a Monday morning, oh what a terrible sight to see,
'Dabtoes' for'd and the Dustmen aft, sitting there picking at a 'chicken on a raft'.
Hey -oh, chicken on a raft, Oy -oh, chicken on a raft.
Hey -oh, chicken on a raft, Oy -oh, chicken on a raft.
They gave me the Middle and the Forenoon too,
And now I'm pulling in the whaler's crew, )
Seagulls wheeling overhead,
I ought to be 'flogging' in a feather bed.
I had a little girl in 'Donny B',
And oh, she made a fool of me,
Her heart was like a Pusser's shower,
From hot to cold in a quarter of an hour.
An Amazon girl lives in Dumfries,
She only has kids in twos and threes,
Her sister lives in Maryhill,
She says she won't but I think she will.
We kissed goodbye on the midnight bus,
She didn't cry, she didn't fuss,
Am I the man that she loves best?
Or am I just a cuckoo in another man's nest?
Clear Away the Track Let the Bulgine Run
Capstan shanty
Chorus:
Timme Hey, Rig-a-jig, and a jaunting run!
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
With Eliza Lee all on my knee,
So! Clear away the track an’ let the bulgine run!
Oh! the Ol’ “Wild Cat” of the Swallow Tail Line!
Resp: Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
She’s never a day behind her time!
Resp: So! Clear away the track an’ let the bulgine run!
O, we’re outward bound for New York Town,
Them bowery gals we’ll waltz around.
When we’ve stowed our freight at the West Street Pier,
It’s home to Liverpool then we’ll steer.
O, them bowery gals will give us fun,
Chatham Street dives is home from home.
When we all gets back to Liverpool town,
I’ll stand ye whiskies all around.
O, heave a pawl – o, bear a hand,
Just one more pull and make her stand.
O, when I gets home across the sea,
Eliza, will you marry me?
Cornish Lads
Roger Bryant
From Newly town we used to sail
Through rain and mist and lashing gale
The mackerel shoals we hoped to find
And soon we've left Land's End behind
CHORUS
Well Cornish lads are fishermen
And Cornish lads are miners too
But when the fish and tin are gone
What are the Cornish boys to do?
I've searched the seven stones around
But not a sign or shoal we've found
Round Island light is now in sight
But the Scillies are a barren ground
The winding engines used to sing
An anthem there to Cornish tin
And Geevor lads they all would grin
On Friday when they draw their pay
The water now reclaims the mine
And young men talk of old men's time
And go to work in gold or coal
Or face a life upon the dole
The hammer of the auction man
Is the only sound we soon will hear
And visitors will make the noise
And order drinks from Cornish boys
They'll do as they have done before
Go out to roam the wide world o'er
Wherever fish or ships are found
Or there's a hole down in the ground
Last Chorus:
Well Cornish lads are fishermen
And Cornish lads are miners too
So when the fish and tin are gone
That's what the Cornish boys will do