Saw the sledge
With forward end down
Noble little socks
Had found a resting place at last
Not a sight
A sound to be heard
A sun burns the eyes, the skin
This sun burns your eyes, your skin
Bid goodbye to sweetheart
Big goodbye to friend
A perilous position
And with a drop of pemmican
And taste of sloe gin
The moon frowns on you, wave toward grey
The moon frowns on you, wave toward grey
Wave forever
I pray the rope will break
So I might have a nice long rest