‘Tis a rough, tough life of toil an’ strife we whale-men undergo. An’ we don’t give a dam’ when the gale is on, an' how hard the winds do blow. We’re homeward bound, it’s a dam’ fine sound, with a good ship taut an’ free. An’ we don’t give a dam’ when we drink our rum, with the gals from ol’ Maui. Rollin’ down to ol’ Maui, me boys, Rollin’ down to ol’ Maui. We’re homeward bound from the Arctic ground. Rollin’ down to ol’ Maui.
Once more we sail with a northerly gale through the ice an’ sleet an’ snow. An’ them coconut fronds in them tropic lands, oh, we soon again shall know. Six hellish months has passed away in them cold Kamchatca Sea, But now we’re bound from the Arctic ground, Rollin’ down to ol’ Maui.
We’ll heave our lead where ol’ Diamond Head looms up on ol’ Wahoo. Our masts an’ yards are sheathed with ice, an’ our decks are hid from view. The horrid ice of the sea-cut tiles that deck the Arctic Sea, Are miles behind in the frozen wind, since we steered for ol’ Maui.
How soft the breeze of the tropic seas, now the ice is far astern. An’ them native maids in them island glades are awaitin’ our return. An’ their big, black eyes even now look out, hopin’ some fine day to see, Our baggy sails runnin’ ‘fore the gales, rollin’ down to ol’ Maui.
An’ now we sail with a favorable gale toward our island home. Our mainyard sprung, all whalin’ done, an’ we ain’t got far to roam. Our stuns’l booms are carried away, what care we for that sound? A livin’ gale is at our tail, thank God we’re homeward bound.
An’ now we’re anchored in the Bay with the kanakas all around. With chants an’ soft aloha oes they greet us homeward bound. An’ now ashore we’ll have good fun, we’ll paint them beaches red, Awakin’ in the arms of a wahinee, with a big, fat, achin’ head. (Syng først refrenget viskende, så igjen med fullt volum)
