O herrings are harvests that fishermen glean
Where flashes the silver through deep ocean green,
But when herring harvests reach old Aberdeen
They're known as the silver darlings.
CHORUS: Silver darlings on Aberdeen quay,
Brought by the fisherman home from the sea
To the city that stands 'twixt the Don and the Dee,
The home of the silver darlings.
The boats leave the harbour, their wake spreading wide
And empty they roll with the swell of the tide.
O soon may their hatches be thrown open wide
For a catch of the silver darlings.
With ice in the rigging and death down below,
The gales screaming wild and the glass hanging low,
The wives and the sweethearts are women who know
The price of the silver darlings.