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letra de weary whaling grounds - jack the lad (uk)

if i had the wings of a gull, me boys
i’d spread them and fly home
i’d leave old greenland’s icy grounds
for of white whales, there is none
and the weather’s rough and the winds do blow
and there’s little comfort here
i’d sooner be snug in a newcastle pub
a-drinking up strong beer

oh a man must be mad or want money bad
to venture catching whales
for he may be drowned when the fish turns around
or his head be smashed by the tail
though the work seems grand to the young green hand
and his heart is high when he goes
in a very short burst, he’ll soon hear the curse
at the cry of “there she blows”
it’s all hands on deck now for god’s sake
move briskly if you can
and he stumbles on deck both dizzy and sick
and for his life, he don’t give a d-mn
and high overhead, the great blue spread
and the mate gives the whale the iron
and soon they’ve blood in a purple flood
and from the spouthole comes a flame

these trials we bear for nigh four years
till the flag, she points for home
we’re supposed for our toil to get a bonus on the oil
and an equal share of the bone
but we go to the agent to settle for the trip
and we find we’ve cause to defend
for we’ve slaved away four years of our lives
and earned about three pounds ten

it’s a weary life on the whaling ground
it isn’t safe if you ain’t gonna stand

- jack the lad uk

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