Banks Of Newfoundland

Me bully boys of Liverpool I'll have you to beware
When you sail in them packet ships no dungaree jumpers wear
But have a good monkey jacket all ready to your hand
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her, with holystone and sand
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

Well we had Jack Lynch from Ballynahinch, Mike Murphy and some more
And I tell you well, they suffered like hell on the way to Baltimore (to Baltimore!)
They pawned their gear in Liverpool, and sailed as they did stand
But there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her, with holystone and sand
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

Well the mate he stood on the fo'c'sle head and loudly he did roar
Come rattle her in me lucky lads, you're bound for America's shore (America's shore)
Come wipe the blood off that dead man's face, and haul or you'll be damned
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her, with holystone and sand
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

And now it's reef and reif, me boys, with the canvas frozen hard
At each mountain pass every mother's son, on a ninety-foot tops'l yard (tops'l yard!)
Never mind about boots or oilskins, but haul or you'll be damned
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her, with holystone and sand
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

And now we're off the hook me boys, and the land is white with snow
And soon we'll see that paytable and we'll spend the whole night below (night below)
And on the docks, come down in flocks, them pretty girls will say
Well it's snugger with me than on the sea, on the Banks of Newfoundland

We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her, with holystone and sand
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland

We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her, with holystone and sand
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland