Ooohh, A capital ship for an ocean tripWas the ‘Walloping Window Blind’No wind that blew dismayed her crewOr troubled the captain’s mindThe man at the wheel was made to feelContempt for the wildest blow-ow-owTho’ it oft appeared when the gale had clearedThat he’d been in his bunk below
So, blow ye winds, heigh-hoA-roving I will goI’ll stay no more on England’s shoreSo let the music play-ay-ayI’m off for the morning trainTo cross the raging mainI’m off to my love with a boxing glove10,000 miles away
The bos’un’s mate was very sedateYet fond of amusement tooHe played hop-scotch with the starboard watchWhile the captain tickled the crewThe gunner he was apparently madFor he sat on the after ra-ra-railAnd fired salutes with the captain’s bootsIn the teeth of a booming galeThe captain sat on the commodore’s hatAnd dined in a royal wayOff pickles & figs & little roast pigsAnd gunners bread each day
The cook was Dutch and behaved as suchFor the diet he served the crew-ew-ewWas a couple of tons of hot-cross bunsServed up with sugar and glueThen we all fell ill as mariners willOn a diet that’s rough and crudeAnd we shivered and shook as we dipped the cookIn a tub of his gluesome food
All nautical pride we cast asideAnd we ran the vessel asho-o-oreOn the Gulliby Isles where the poopoo smilesAnd the rubbily ubdugs roarComposed of sand was that favored landAnd trimmed with cinnamon strawsAnd pink and blue was the pleasing hueOf the ticke-toe teaser’s clawsWe sat on the edge of a sandy ledgeAnd shot at the whistling bee-ee-eeWhile the rugabug bats wore waterproof hatsAs they dipped in the shining sea
On rugabug bark from dawn till darkWe dined till we all had grownUncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junkCame up from the Torrible ZoneShe was stubby and square, but we didn’t much careSo we cherrily put to sea-ea-eaAnd we left all the crew of the junk to chewOn the bark of the rubabug tree.
If you really want to screw with someone’s head, there are two pretty much diametrically opposed songs you can sing to that tune — or to each other’s tune, for that matter: “Amazing Grace” and “House of the Rising Sun.”
Chithing Premium Member over 8 years ago
Shoot the frog.
Retired Dude over 8 years ago
Leslie, row the boat ashore. Hallelujah.
OldestandWisest over 8 years ago
“Exciting and new!…”
oldsmkysyvr over 8 years ago
EARWORMS! AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!
Ed Brault Premium Member over 8 years ago
Ooohh, A capital ship for an ocean tripWas the ‘Walloping Window Blind’No wind that blew dismayed her crewOr troubled the captain’s mindThe man at the wheel was made to feelContempt for the wildest blow-ow-owTho’ it oft appeared when the gale had clearedThat he’d been in his bunk below
So, blow ye winds, heigh-hoA-roving I will goI’ll stay no more on England’s shoreSo let the music play-ay-ayI’m off for the morning trainTo cross the raging mainI’m off to my love with a boxing glove10,000 miles away
The bos’un’s mate was very sedateYet fond of amusement tooHe played hop-scotch with the starboard watchWhile the captain tickled the crewThe gunner he was apparently madFor he sat on the after ra-ra-railAnd fired salutes with the captain’s bootsIn the teeth of a booming galeThe captain sat on the commodore’s hatAnd dined in a royal wayOff pickles & figs & little roast pigsAnd gunners bread each day
The cook was Dutch and behaved as suchFor the diet he served the crew-ew-ewWas a couple of tons of hot-cross bunsServed up with sugar and glueThen we all fell ill as mariners willOn a diet that’s rough and crudeAnd we shivered and shook as we dipped the cookIn a tub of his gluesome food
All nautical pride we cast asideAnd we ran the vessel asho-o-oreOn the Gulliby Isles where the poopoo smilesAnd the rubbily ubdugs roarComposed of sand was that favored landAnd trimmed with cinnamon strawsAnd pink and blue was the pleasing hueOf the ticke-toe teaser’s clawsWe sat on the edge of a sandy ledgeAnd shot at the whistling bee-ee-eeWhile the rugabug bats wore waterproof hatsAs they dipped in the shining sea
On rugabug bark from dawn till darkWe dined till we all had grownUncommonly shrunk when a Chinese junkCame up from the Torrible ZoneShe was stubby and square, but we didn’t much careSo we cherrily put to sea-ea-eaAnd we left all the crew of the junk to chewOn the bark of the rubabug tree.
Charles Edward Carryl
K M over 8 years ago
If you really want to screw with someone’s head, there are two pretty much diametrically opposed songs you can sing to that tune — or to each other’s tune, for that matter: “Amazing Grace” and “House of the Rising Sun.”