Well ships may come and ships may go, as long as the seas do roll
And a sailor lad, just like his dad, he loves his rum and bowl
Now a lass ashore he do adore, a woman who’s plump and round
But when your money’s all gone it’s the same old song:
Get up Jack, John sit down!
Come along, come along me jolly brave boys
There’s plenty more grog in the jar
We’ll plow the briny ocean with a jolly roving tar
When Jack’s ashore he’ll make his way to some old boarding house
He’s welcomed in with rum and gin, likewise with fork and scouse
And he’ll spend and he’ll spend and never offend, ’til he lies drunk on the ground…
When Jack is old and weather-beat, too old to sail about
They’ll let him stop at some grog shop ’til eight bells calls him out
Then he’ll raise his glass high, and loudly he’ll cry “Thank God I’m homeward bound…”