Here's my transcription from the link above. Performed by Edmund Henneberry at Eastern Passage, Halifax Co., Nova Scotia 6 June 1948.

Why Don't My Father's Ship Come In

It's well I do remember when they laid me down to sleep
A gentle child, but three years old, in his mothers arms did weep
Saying "onced I had a father who did me kind embrace
And if he was here, he'd wipe those tears that go down my mother's face"

Oh, mother, dear, come tell to me, come tell me the reason why
Why don't my father's ship come in? Why do you weep and cry?
All of the ships are coming in, plowing the white, white foam
And why don't my father's ship come in? Why does he tarry long?

Your father's ship, my gentle child, you never shall see again
For the hurricanes of the ocean sweeped his body o'er the main
And the fishes of the ocean swims over your father's breast
While his body lies all motionless, I hope his soul's at rest

It's well I do remember when he took me on his knee
Saying "This, my son, is a banyan fruit from the far-off Indian Tree"
It's well I do remember when he waved his hat in hand
And the very last words "God bless you both" as the ship sailed down the strand

Oh, the ocean is deep and fathomless as the earth is from the sky
There is a home in Heaven above, for you, my son, and I
And since you're the only one that's left, I'll hold you to my side
And they both lie down together and the son and mother cried