They took us jolly sailor lads
A-fishing for the whale
In the year of our lord eighteen hundred and six
Bound for Greenland we set sail
The lookout stood on the crosstrees high
With a spyglass in his hand
There's a whale, there's a whale, there's a whalefish, he cried
And she blows at every span
The Captain stood on the quarter deck
And a sod of a man was he
Overhaul, overhaul, let your davit tackles fall
And we'll launch them boats to sea
We stuck that whale and the line played out
But she gave a flurry with her tail
And the boat capsized, we lost seven of our men
And we never caught that whale
Now the losing of seven fine seamen
Oh it grieved our captain sore
But the losing of that bloody sperm whale
Oh it grieved him ten times more
Now Greenland is a horrid place
Where us fisher-lads have to go
Where the rose and the lily never bloom in Spring
And there's only ice and snow