whale song

if i had the wings of a gull me boys

id spread them and fly home

i'd leave old greenlands icy ground for of right whales there is none

and the weathers rough and the winds do blow and there's little comfort here

i'd sooner be snug in an edinburg pub a-drinking of strong beer

oh

a man must be mad or want money bad to venture catching whales

for he may be drowned when the whale turns around or his head be smashed by the tail

though the work seems grand to the young green hand and his heart is high when he goes

in a very short burst you'll hear the curse and the cry of there she blows"