The Grimsby Fisherman

I'm a rarum tarum fisherman that sail from Grimsby town
And in the "Lion " and "Kitching" I've had many up and down
But when I've spent me stocker-bait and had a little spree
Then away I crack on board a smack to plow the stormy sea

Chorus
Then watch us , twig us , we're a proper juba jue
Give her a sheet and let her rip, we're the boys to put her through
You ought to see her rally and the wind a blowing free
On the passage from the Fisher-bank to Great Grimsby

Our Skipper's a Shanghai rooster that loves a drop of good ale
Our second additions a rip-stone pippin, that's seen the inside of a jail
Our Third-hand's been a bushranger, the Dickey as came from the diles
And to judge from his looks, I'm certain our Cook is a native of African wilds

From the Captain down to the caili? Cook, we're a Vandedecken crew
A Liverpool Irish packet rat and a son of a Kangeroo
We've got one of the Forty Thieves, a Bendigo Birmingham hoop
And in every ring-tail Monkey-man you'd recognise our cook

When we get a trip on board, for Grimsby town we steer
The only thing that's in our head is Mrs Sargeant's beer
We crack on all the canvas boys, and battle through every gale
Until the Spurm? is left astern, and then we take in sail

Sailing over the Dogger-Bank, isn't it a treat
And the wind being in the E.N.E., we had to give her sheet
We were running wing and wing until we sighted Cleethorpes pier
And when the voyage was ended we're the boys to gobble the beer

We're the boys to make a noise when we come home from sea
Like Pell Mells Swells we booze the girls and cause a jubilee
We'd dance and shout and halloo out and roll about the floor
Until our rent is all spent and then we book for more