CARRIED OFF TO SEA
(Joe Stead)

'Twas down in Limehouse town, one morn at half-past three.
On the early tide I was shanghaied and carried off to sea.
I was carried off to sea, me boys; I was carried off to sea.
On the early tide I was shanghaied and carried off to sea.

"Then up, me boys, get aft", that's what the bosun cried.
"By break of day we'll be far away if we catch this early tide."

(Then pattern of refrain for each verse = as in first verse above.)

Rotherhithe lay in the mist, as Millwall we slipped by.
We was outward bound from London town as the sun rose in the sky.

Bound for Van Diemen's Land, with our cargo stowed in well,
Below the decks were starving wrecks – all convicts bound to hell.

Well, the weather it set fair, but when we reached the Horn,
The waves rose high and black was the sky as we sailed into a storm.

Well, the hours turned into days, and the days turned into weeks.
Each night and morn we rode that storm till the bilges they did leak.

But the ocean won the day, and our good ship went down.
I'm pleased to say I swam away when all the rest got drowned.

(Repeat first verse.)