Irish Rovers Banks Of Newfoundland
Ye bully boys of Belfast-town
I'll have yous to beware
When you sail on them packet ships,
No denim jumpers wear
But have a monkey jacket
And cover up your hands
For there blows cold nor'westerers
On the banks of Newfoundland
We'll rub her 'round and scrub her 'round
With holy stone and sand,
And we'll say farewell to the Virgin Rocks
On the Banks of Newfoundland!
Well, we had Joe Lynch from Ballynahinch,
Mike Murphy and some more
I'll tell you boys, they suffered like hell
On the way to Baltimore
They pawned their gear in Liverpool
And sailed as they did stand
And they froze to death up there aloft
On the banks of Newfoundland
We'll rub her 'round and scrub her 'round
With holy stone and sand,
And we'll say farewell to the Virgin Rocks
On the Banks of Newfoundland!
The mate he stood on the fo'c'sle deck
And loudly he did roar
Saying', rattle her in, me lucky lads,
We're bound for America's shore
Ay, and wipe the blood off that dead man's face
And heave for to beat the band
For there blows cold nor'westerers
On the banks of Newfoundland
We'll rub her 'round and scrub her 'round
With holy stone and sand,
And we'll say farewell to the Virgin Rocks
On the Banks of Newfoundland!
And now we're off the hook me boys,
The land's all white with snow
Soon we'll see the pay table
And spend all nights below
And to the docks, they come in flocks,
The pretty girls will stand
Sayin' it's snugger with me than it is at sea,
On the banks of Newfoundland
We'll rub her 'round and scrub her 'round
With holy stone and sand,
And we'll say farewell to the Virgin Rocks
On the Banks of Newfoundland!
