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.