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It's busk ye, me boy's, get you up on the deck |
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And take up your stations for hauling the nets |
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And mind up all together lads all through the night |
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And shaking your oilskins until it's daylight |
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With a heave and a haul and the shaking of nets |
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It's when we're at hauling we're living on hope |
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The boy in the locker the lads on the ropes |
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The fellows in the hold to our hauling the nets |
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And shaking the herring out on to the deck |
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With a heave and a haul and the shaking of nets |
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It's net after net we pull up from the sea |
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With a haul and a shake and a one, two and three |
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The herring are a piling around our sea boots |
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And slithering and sliding down into the shoots |
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With a heave and a haul and the shaking of nets |
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It's hour after hour we are hauling away |
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All through the long night till the dawn of the day |
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The captain's in the wheelhouse he's on the RT |
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And the cook's in the galley a brewing the tea |
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And we're heaving and hauling and shaking of nets |
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Now the season is over so be on your way |
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And head for the home port to sign for your pay |
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Your missus will be waiting to welcome you home |
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It's so hard for a wife to be so much alone |
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And you're finished with heaving and hauling of nets |
