In Lowestoft a boat was laid Mark well what I do say And she was built for the herring trade But she has gone a-rovin’, a-rovin’, a-rovin’, The Lord knows where ! They gave her Government coal to burn, And a Q.F. gun at bow and stern, And sent her out a-rovin’, a-rovin’, a-rovin’, The Lord knows where ! Her skipper was mate of a bucko ship Which always killed one man per trip, So he is used to rovin’, a-rovin’, a-rovin’, The Lord knows where ! Her mate was skipper of a chapel in Wales, And so he fights in topper and tails - Religious tho’ rovin’, a-rovin’, a-rovin’, The Lord knows where ! Her engineer is fifty-eight, So he’s prepared to meet his fate, Which ain’t unlikely rovin’, a-rovin’, a-rovin’, The Lord knows where ! Her leading stoker’s seventeen, So he don’t know what the Judgements mean, Unless he cops them rovin’, a-rovin’, a-rovin’, The Lord knows where ! Her chef was cook in the Lost Dogs’ Home, Mark well what I do say And I’m sorry for Fritz when they all come A-rovin’, a-rovin’, a-roarin’ and a-rovin’, Round the North Sea rovin’, The Lord knows where !
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