H.M.S. Rose off Ferryland, August 1995. Printed from shanty.rendance.org Site contents © 1993-2009 Andrew Draskóy excepting product images and lyrics.
Common Sailors

I'm the man before the mast
  That ploughs the raging sea
And on this simple subject
  Will you please enlighten me
Common sailors we are called
  Come tell me the reason why
And on this simple subject I'll reply

Don't you call us common sailors anymore
Don't you call us common sailors anymore
Good things to you we bring
Don't you call us common men
We're as good as anybody that's on shore

The young girls of this country
  Their growing days we bless
We brings them silks and satins
  Out of which they makes a dress
To gain the heart of some young man
  As fancy dresses do
Don't never despise the sailor boys
  That sails the ocean blue

The young gents of this country
  They're sitting at their ease
Not thinking on the stormy nights
  That we spent on the seas
We brings the leaves to make cigars
  To decorate their face
They wouldn't call us common
  If they were sometimes in our place

When speaking of a man ashore
  We never hear you say
He's a common this or common that
  Be his calling what it may
Be he a travelling tinker,
  Or a scavanger, or a sweep
Then why call us common sailors
  Who battle with the deep