Oh the times are hard and the wages low
Leave her, Johnny, leave her
But now once more ashore we’ll go
And it’s time for us to leave her
Leave her, Johnny, leave her
Oh leave her, Johnny, leave her
For the voyage is done and the winds don’t blow
And it’s time for us to leave her
The winds were foul and the work was hard....
From the Liverpool dock to the London yard....
There was rotten meat and weev’ly bread
You’d eat it or you’d starve to death
I hate to sail on this rotten tub
No grog allowed and rotten grub
The skipper was bad but the mate was worse
He’d blow you down with a spike and a curse
Oh the winds were hard and the water high
She shipped it green and none went by
The sails are furled and the anchor is stowed
And no more around Cape Horn we’ll go
I thought I heard the old man say
You can go ashore and spend your pay
The rats have left, and we the crew
It’s time, by Christ, that we did, too
We’ll make her fast and stow our gear
The gals are a-waiting on the pier
Oh if ye can leave her like a man
Then leave her, Johnny, while ye can