The Pogues — Greenland Whale Fisheries

In eighteen hundred and forty-six And of March the eighteenth day We hoisted our colours to the top of the mast And for Greenland sailed away, brave boys And for Greenland sailed away The lookout in the crosstrees stood With spyglass in his hand; There's a whale, there's a whale And a whalefish he cried And she blows at every span, brave boys She blows at every span The captain stood on the quarter deck The ice was in his eye; Overhaul, overhaul! Let your gibsheets fall And you'll put your boats to sea, brave boys And you'll put your boats to sea Our harpoon struck and the line played out With a single flourish of his tail He capsized the boat and we lost five men And we did not catch the whale, brave boys And we did not catch the whale The losing of those five jolly men It grieved the captain sore But the losing of that fine whalefish Now it grieved him ten times more, brave boys Now it grieved him ten times more Oh Greenland is a barren land A land that bares no green Where there's ice and snow, and the whalefishes blow And the daylight's seldom seen, brave boys And the daylight's seldom seen