St. John's Harbour (Big Bow Wow)
From St. John’s harbour we set sail,
The wind was blowing a devil of a gale,
With our ringtail set abaft the mizzen peak
And our dolphin striker ploughing up the deep.
CHORUS: With a big bow-wow, tow-row-row
Fol - da rol - da rye - dol - day
Our captain comes up from down below,
He looks a-loft and he looks a-low,
He looks a-low and he looks a-loft,
Saying “Coil those ropes b’ys, fore and aft!”
CHORUS:
Then it’s back to his cabin he quickly crawls,
And unto the steward he loudly bawls,
“Go bring me a glass that will make me cough,
For it's better weather here than it is up a-loft.”
CHORUS
We poor sailors standing on the deck,
With the blasted rain pouring down our necks;
Not a drop of grog will he to us afford,
But he damns our eyes with every other word.
CHORUS
Now there’s one thing we sailors crave,
For him to find a watery grave,
We’ll shove him down into a dark, deep hole,
Where the sharks'll have his body and the devil take his soul!
CHORUS
Words and Music - traditional. From the singing of Fergus O’Byrne.