Banks of Newfoundland
Me bully boys of Liverpool
And I'll have you all beware
When you sail on them packet ships
No dungaree jackets wear
But have a big monkey jacket
All ready to your hand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We had Jack Lynch from Ballynahinch
Mike Murphy and some more
And I'll tell you boys, well they suffered like hell
On the way to Baltimore
They pawned their gear down in Liverpool
And they sailed as they did stand
But there blow some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
Now the mate, he did stand on the fo'c'sle head
And loudly he did roar
Now rattle her in me, lucky lads
You're bound for America's shore
Come, wipe the blood off that dead man's face
And haul or you'll be damned
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
So now we're off the hook, me boys
And the land is white with snow
And soon we'll see the pay table
And we'll spend the night below
And on the docks, coming down in flocks
Well, those pretty girls, they will say
It's snugger with me than out on the sea
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
And I'll have you all beware
When you sail on them packet ships
No dungaree jackets wear
But have a big monkey jacket
All ready to your hand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We had Jack Lynch from Ballynahinch
Mike Murphy and some more
And I'll tell you boys, well they suffered like hell
On the way to Baltimore
They pawned their gear down in Liverpool
And they sailed as they did stand
But there blow some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
Now the mate, he did stand on the fo'c'sle head
And loudly he did roar
Now rattle her in me, lucky lads
You're bound for America's shore
Come, wipe the blood off that dead man's face
And haul or you'll be damned
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
So now we're off the hook, me boys
And the land is white with snow
And soon we'll see the pay table
And we'll spend the night below
And on the docks, coming down in flocks
Well, those pretty girls, they will say
It's snugger with me than out on the sea
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the Banks of Newfoundland
Credits
Writer(s): Traditional
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