We'll rant and we'll roar like true Newfoundlanders

We'll rant and we'll roar on deck and below

Until we strikes bottom inside the two sunkers

When straight through the channel to Toslow we'll go



I'm a son of a sea cook, I'm a cook in a trader

I can dance, I can sing, I can reef the main boom

I can handle a jigger, I cuts a fine figure

Whenever I gets in a boats standing room







Farewell and adieu to ye young maids of Valen

Oderin and Presque, Fox Hole and Bruley

I'm bound for the westward to the wall with the hole in

I can't marry all or a chokey I'll be