Liverpool JudiesWhen the ship had turned for home and it had a good wind and was making speed, the sailors used to joke that "The gals have hold of the towlines."
From Liverpool to 'Frisco a-rovin' I went,
For to stay in that country was my good intent.
But drinkin' strong whiskey like other damn fools,
Oh, I soon got transported back to Liverpool, singin'
And it's row, row bullies, row,
Them Liverpool judies have got us in tow.
A smart Yankee packet lies out in the Bay,
A-waitin' a fair wind to get under way.
With all of her sailors so sick and so sore,
They'd drunk all their whiskey and can't get no more.
Oh, here comes the mate in a hell of a stew.
He's lookin' for work for us sailors to do.
Oh, it's ``Fore tops'l halyards!'' he loudly does roar,
And it's lay aloft Paddy, ye son-o'-a-whore!
One night of Cape Horn I shall never forget,
'Tis oft-times I sighs when I think of it yet.
She was divin' bows under with her sailors all wet,
She was doin' twelve knots wid her mainskys'l set.
And now we've arrived in the Bramleymoor Dock,
And all them flash judies on the pierhead do flock.
The barrel's run dry and our five quid advance,
And I guess it's high time for to git up and dance.