Chorus:
Paddy lay back, take in your slack
Take a turn around the capstan, heave a pawl
About ship's stations, boys, be handy
We're bound for Valparaiso round the Horn
It was a cold
and dreary morning in December
And all of my money being spent
What day it was I hardly can remember
When down to the shipping office I went
That day there was a great demand for sailors
From the colonies, from Frisco and from France
So I shipped upon a limey barque, The Hotspur
And got paralytic drunk on my advance
Some of the
fellas had been drinking
And me myself was heavy on the booze
So I sat upon my old sea chest a-thinking
I'd just turn in and have myself a snooze
I wished I was in 'The Jolly Sailor'
Along with Irish Kate, just drinking beer
Then I thought, what happy lads were sailors
And with my flipper I wiped away a tear
We got all
the tugs up alongside
They towed us from the wharf and out to sea
With half the crew just puking o'er the shipside
And the other half were puking over me
The bosun said he couldn't savvy 'cos
The crew were speaking lingos all galore
So the Old Man thought the only thing to do was
Pay us ugly buggers off and ship some more
