If you're fed up wi your life an you want tae leave your hame Go doon tae Bernard Street an gie Salvesen your name. He'll send ye tae an island, by Christ, it is a beauty! For the only thing you do is attend yer bloody duty. CHORUS: Singin o dear me, what will I dae When I find oot that, oh, I cannae make it? O when first you arrive, it's how the mem'ry lingers, Soon you're coontin a the days on the tips o bloody fingers. We've got to have our quota, and that's the snag that's on us, All you hear them talk about is overtime and bonus. There's all kind of men, there's firemen and there's sailors, Then there's the lot that they call the bloody whalers; All nice guys - of course there are some pinchers - But you want to see the Norsky boys, they call themselves the flensers. The food's nae bad, of course it could be better, But concerning me it really doesna matter; Big whale steaks, and dods of mashed potato, You'd think the bloody lot had been through the separator.
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