Oh list, oh list to me sorrowful lay,
And attention give to my song, I pray,
When you've heard it all you will say
There goes an unfortunate tailor.
Oh, once I was happy as a bird in a tree,
My Sarah was all in the world to me,
Now I'm cut out by a son of the sea,
She's left me here to bewail her.
Why did Sarah serve me so?
No more will I stitch and no more will I sew;
Thimble and my needle to the winds I'll throw
And I'll go and 'list for a sailor.
Oh, my Sarah was the daughter of a publican,
A generous kind-hearted sort of a man,
Who spoke very plain what he thought of a man,
And he never looked bad on the tailor.
Oh, my days were honey and my nights were the same,
Till a man named Cobb from the ocean came
Great long beard and his mighty frame,
Captain on board of a whaler.
And he spent his money both frank and free,
With his tales of the land and his songs of the sea,
Stole me Sarah's heart from me,
And he blighted the hopes of a tailor.
He come swaggering down, this Captain Cobb,
"Avast!" he cries, "you blubbery swab.
If you don't knock off I'll scuttle your knob!"
Sarah smiled at the sailor.
So now I'll cross this raging sea,
For Sarah's who proved untrue to me.
My heart's locked up and she's the key;
Such a very unfeeling gaoler.
Oh now, kind friends, I'll bid you adieu,
No more my woes will trouble you;
Travel the country through and through,
I'll go and 'list for a sailor.