That's how it sounded to me, too, Gibb. It's an interesting juxtaposition with a rowing song. And I see I messed up the transcription when I re-typed it. It alternates "Row, bullies row!" with "Row, my bullies, row!" So, just for form, let me re-issue this:

"Oh! I do love that good, old bottle!
   Row, bullies, row!
Oh! I do love that good, old bottle!
   Row, my bullies, row!
Why do you love that good, old bottle?
    Row, bullies, row!
Why do you love that good, old bottle?
   Row, my bullies, row!
I love it 'cause it suits my throttle!
   Row, bullies, row!
I love it 'cause it suits my throttle!
    Row, my bullies, row!

   After singing five more verses in the same elegant strain, we happened to pass a bum-boat, in which were seated a fat, old white woman and a negro boy, whereupon the singers roared out with great glee, and in a higher key than before:

'Yonder sits a dear old lady!
   Row, bullies, row!
Yonder sits a dear old lady!
   Row, my bullies, row!
How do you know she is a lady?
   Row, bullies, row!
How do you know she is a lady?
    Row, my bullies, row!
I know her by her nigger baby!
    Row, bullies, row!
I know her by her nigger baby!   
    Row, my bullies, row!"

That's better. Sometimes I get cross-eyed with my cutting and pasting!