The Dogger Bank              adapted by Steve Gardham

Come all you hardy fishermen that’s sailing out of Hull,
We’ll have a beer to give good cheer, the best that they can pull,
But when our money’s gone and spent, they’ll chuck you out the door,
It’s off in a crack aboard a smack and go to sea for more.

Chorus: Watch us, twig us, we’re a proper jolly crew;
Give ’er the sheet an’ let ’er rip, we’re the boys to see ’er through,
You ought to see ’er runnin’, the wind a blowin’ full,
Our passage from the Dogger Bank a sailin’ home to Hull.

Never mind the weather, we’re fishing all year round,
Here’s to a bumper catch, me boys, when we reach the fishing ground,
Here’s to a bumper catch, me boys, to take home to the quay,
We’ll flog the lot, fill up the pot, and spend our money free.

Our skipper he’s a drunkard, he likes a pot o’ good ale,
Our second edition has been in prison, he’s seen the inside of a jail,
Our third hand he’s a scrounger, he’s always on the sub,
Our cook, O’Malley, he’s in the galley a scoffing all the grub.

When we gets the fish on board we guts ’em on the spot,
You’ve got to watch your fingers or you’ll lose the ruddy lot,
We throw the innards to the gulls that follow us along,
An’ while we cut an’ sling the gut we sing a jolly song.

But now the smacks lie rotting, the quayside it lies bare,
The foreign ships have fished the grounds, enough to make you swear,
We haven’t got the tin, me boys, to buy another round,
So we’ll ship aboard a trawler to a far-off fishing ground.