A capital ship for an ocean trip
Was a wallowing window blind.
No wind that blew dismayed her crew,
Or troubled the captain’s mind.
The man at the wheel was made to feel
Contempt for the wildest blow-ow-ow,
Tho’ it often appeared when the gale had cleared,
That he’d been in his bunk below.
Then blow ye winds heigh-ho!
A roving will go,
I’ll stay no more on England’s shore,
So let the music play-ay-ay!
I’m off for the morning train,
I’ll cross the raging main,
I’m off to my love with a boxing glove,
Ten thousand miles away.
The bo’swain’s mate was very sedate,
Yet fond of amusement too.
He played hop-scotch with the starboard watch,
While the captain he tickled the crew,
And the gunner he had was apparently mad,
For he sat on the after rail-ail-ail,
And fired salutes with the captain’s boots,
In the teeth of the booming gale!
The captain sat on the commodore’s hat,
And dined in a royal way,
Of roasted pigs and pickles and figs,
And gunnery bread each day,
And the cook was Dutch and behaved as such,
For the diet he gave the crew-ew-ew,
Was a number of tons of hot cross buns
Sewed up with sugar and glue.