The Antarctic Tippler

In nineteen hundred and seven sir,
My luck it being down,
I shipped upon the Nimrod, sir
For but fifty dollars found, my boys,
For but fifty dollars found.

If I had known where we were bound
And how cold the ice and the snow,
I'd have thrown myself on the parish first,
And never with Shackleton would go, oh no!
I never with Shackleton would go.

And when we came to McMurdo Sound,
The land all frozen hard,
We had ice on the decks, and ice in our beards
And ice from every yard, my boys!
We had ice from every yard.

I had no dog to warm my feet
No wife all warm and fair!
So I took to nipping from the craithur neat
Just to stay alive out there!
Oh, to stay alive out there.

Oh the skipper loved his brandy, oh,
And the deckhands rum did desire,
But 'twas pure single malt
That I nipped from without halt
Did feed my poor heart's fire!
Did feed my poor heart's fire!

Captain England feared the ice and the bear
But her feared the ice much more,
And he swore he would take the Nimrod out to sea
While we slaved away on the shore, my lads!
While we humped cold stores ashore.

I heard his vow with a deep, deep dread
For my whiskey all was aboard!
With no thought for my name,
I a smuggler quick became
And a whole case hid ashore, my boys,
A case of it hid ashore.

But the ice moved in and the winds moved high
And my body soon fell low!
And I froze to death by McMurdo Sound
With my whiskey buried in the snow, brave boys!
My malt whiskey buried down below.

When Shackleton sailed away I wept
Never more, deare firends of mine!
But flesh or ghoul, banshee or fool
I would not leave my whiskey there behind, my boys!
I would not leave my whisky there behind!

So I stayed by the Sound for one hundred years
And on the ice I mnourned and whined!
For without a form of meat, I could not reach my treasure neat,
Or taste that spirit divine, brave lads!
Or taste that drink divine!!

And if the day should ever come
When men again return,
If they recover my loot
I will ride along to suit
And I'll haint them 'til they burn, brave boys!
I will haint them 'til they burn.

So scientists and modern men,
A lesson take from me!
Touch not that booze
Or your comfort you will lose
And your soul will ne'er be free, poor soul!
Your soul will ne'er be free.


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