A sailor's life, it is a merry life
He robs young girls of their heart's delight
Leaving them behind to weep and mourn
They never know when they will return
Well, there's four and twenty all in a row

My father he rides in your ships
And I know he would never mean harm
But to see both sides of a quarrel
Is to judge without hate or love
Oh, oh, helpless and slow

You must philosophies
But why must you bore me to tears?
You're red around the eyes
You tell me things no one else hears
You spend all your time crying