‘Twas a cold and dreary mornin’ in December. December!
An’ all of me money it wuz spent. It wuz spent!
Where it went to, Christ, I can’t remember. Remember!
So I down to the shippin’ office went. Went, went!
Paddy lay back, Paddy lay back!
Take in yer slack, Take in yer slack!
Take a turn around yer caps’n, heave a pawl, Heave a pawl!
‘Bout ship stations boys be ‘andy!
For we’re bound for Valaparaiso ‘round the ‘Orn!


On that day there wuz a great demand fer sailors, Fer sailors!
Fer the colonies and fer ‘Frisco an’ fer France. An’ fer France!
So I shipped aboard a Limey barque the ‘Otspur, The ‘Otspur!
An’ got paramalytic drunk on me advance. ‘Vance, ‘vance!

Now I joined ‘er on a cold December mornin’, A-mornin’!
A-frappin’ o’ me flippers to keep me warm, Keep me warm!
With the south cone a-’oisted as a warnin’, A warnin’!
To stand by the comin’ of a storm. Storm, storm!

Now some of our felle’s had bin drinkin’, YES!
An’ I meself wuz ‘eavy on the booze; On the booze!
An’ I sat upon me ol’ seachest a-thinkin’, A-thinkin’!
I’d turn in me bunk an’ ‘ave a snooze. Snooze, snooze!

I woke up in the mornin’ sick an’ sore, An’ sore!
An’ I knew I wuz outward bound again. Bound again!
When I ‘eard a voice a-bawlin’ at the door, The door!
“lay aft, men, an’ answers to yer’s names!” Names, names!

‘Twas on the quarterdeck where first I saw-r-’em. I saw-r-’em!
Such an ugly bunch I’d niber seen before. Seen before!
There wuz a bum an’ a stiff from every quarter, A-quarter!
And it made me poor ol’ ‘art feel sick an’ sore. Sore, sore!

There wuz Spaniards an’ Dutchmen an’ a Rooshian, A Rooshian!
An’ Johnny Crapoos just across from France. Yes, from France!
An’ most of-r-‘em couldn’t speak no English, No English!
But answered to the name of “Month’s advance”. ‘Vance, ‘vance!

I wisht I wuz in the “Jolly Sailor”, The sailor!
Along wid Irish Kate a-drinkin’ beer; Drinkin’ beer!
An’ then I thought what jolly chaps were sailors, Were sailors!
An’ with me flipper I wiped away a tear. Tear, tear!