When I was young lad I sailed with the rest
On a Liverpool packet bound out to the west
We anchored one day in the harbour of Cork
Then put out to sea for the port of New York
    And it's row, row bullies row
    Them Liverpool Judies have got us in tow

For 42 days we were hungry and sore
The winds were against us, the gales they did roar
Off Battery Point we did anchor at last
Our jib boom hove in and our canvas all fast

The boardinghouse masters came aboard in a trice
A shouting and a promising all that was nice
Til one fat old crib took a liking to me
Says he you're a fool, lad, to follow the sea

Says he there's a job as is waiting for you
With lashings of liquor and beggar-all to do
Says he what you say lad, will you ? or two
Says I you old bastard, I'm damned if I do

Next I remember I woke in the morn
On a the three skysail yarder bound south round Cape Horn
With an old set of oilskins and two pair of socks
And a blooming great head and a case of the pox

So come all you young sailors take a warning by me
Keep your eye on the drinks when liquor is free
Don't pay no attention to runner or whore
Or your head'll be thick and your throat will be sore