Ships may come and ships may go, as long as the sea does roll. Each sailor lad, just like his dad, he loves the flow and roll. A trip on shore he does adore, with a girl who's nice and round. When the money's gone, it's the same old song, get up Jack John, sit down. Come along, come along, you jolly great boys, there's lots of crog in the jar. We'll plough the brighty ocean with the jolly rolling tar. Jack comes in, and then he'll stare to some old boarding house. They'll welcome him with a rum and gin and feed him on pork scouse. He'll then stand, and he'll not offend, till he's lying drunk on the ground. When the money's gone, it's the same old song, get up Jack John, sit down. Come along, come along, you jolly great boys, there's lots of crog in the jar. We'll plough the brighty ocean with the jolly rolling tar. Jack he'd then hop, and he'll sail bound out for new fun land. On the ladies fair in Placentia there, they love that sailor man. He'll go to shore out on its air and buy some girl a gown. When the money's gone, it's the same old song, get up Jack John, sit down. Come along, come along, you jolly great boys, there's lots of crog in the jar. We'll plough the brighty ocean with the jolly rolling tar. When Jack gets old and weather'd be too old to roll about, they'll let him stop in some rum shop till eight bells calls him out. Then he'll raise his eyes up to the sky, saying boys, we're homeward bound. When the money's gone, it's the same old song, get up Jack John, sit down. Come along, come along, you jolly great boys, there's lots of crog in the jar. We'll plough the brighty ocean with the jolly rolling tar. Come along, come along, you jolly great boys, there's lots of crog in the jar. We'll plough the brighty ocean with the jolly rolling tar. www.mooji.org