If I had the wings of a gull me boys, Id spread them and fly home
Id leave old Greenlands icy ground for of right whales there is none
And the weathers rough and the winds do blow and theres little comfort here
Id sooner be snug in an Edinburg pub a-drinking of strong beer
Oh a man must be mad or want money bad to venture catching whales
For he may be drowned when the whale turns around or his head be smashed by the tail
Though the work seems grand to the young green hand and his heart is high when he goes
In a very short burst youll hear the curse and the cry of "There she blows"
Now there she blows again
This fight is all insane
Its time for mutiny
To end this misery
So take me home where I belong
I wont go on with sth. wrong
Dont count on me and set me free
Its time to end that misery
All hands on deck now for Gods sake, move briskly if you can
And you stumble on deck both dizzy and sick, and for the life you dont give a damn
And high overhead the great fish sped and the mate gave the whale the iron
And soon the blood in a purple flood from the spout whole comes a-flying
These trails we bear for nigh four years till the ship she points for home
Were due for our toil a bonus on the oil and an equal share of the bone
When we go to the agent to settle for the trip when we find weve cause to lament
For we slaved away four years of our lives and earned about three pounds ten