Trad'Twas on the briny ocean
On a whale-ship I did go
I often thought of distant friends
I often thought of home
Through dreary storms and tempests
And through some heavy gales
Around Cape Horn we sped our way
To look out for sperm whales
They'll rob you and they'll use you
It's worse than any slaves
Before you go a-whaling, boys
You'd best be in your graves
It's do it now or damn your eyes
I'll flog you till you're blue
Oh boys, I couldn't tell it all
But every word is true
The wind do blow and the great seas
grow
And we strain upon the oars
And your heart would bleed at the sperm whale's
speed
And it's, Pull, you sons of whores
The weary chase is over
And the stars begin to glow
And it's, Light the flares, you lubberly lot
There's tryin' out to do
I swore I'd not go back again
Once was homeward bound
For the pleasures are but few, my boys
On them bitter whaling grounds
As sung by A. L. Lloyd
Susannes
Folksong-Notizen English Notes 
