Oh, you landsmen and you seamen, come listen to my song,
It's of a trick was played on me, it won't delay you long;
I came from sea the other day, a fair girl I did meet,
She kindly asked me to a dance was up on Peter Street.
Oh, no, says I, me fair maid, though I can dance quite well,
For tonight I'm bound for Wicklow's town that's where my people dwell;
You'd better come with me, she said, for the distance is not far,
And finding her so friendly, I jumped into her car.
Well, as the dance was over, straight to the bed did go,
'Twas a little did I ever think she'd pull my overthrow;
Robbed my gold watch, and thirty pounds, a pack of fags and fled,
And left me there stark naked, alone upon the bed.
Now, when I awoke in the morning 'twas nothing did I spy,
But a woman's shirt and apron upon the bed did lie;
I wrung my hands, I tore my hair, I cried, What shall I do?
Ah, tonight I'm bound for Wicklow's town, no more will I see you.
Well, as the streets were lonesome at the hour of two o'clock,
I put on the shirt and apron and marched down to the dock;
The crew they saw me coming, these words to me did say,
My dear old chap, you've struck a snap since you've been gone away.
Are those the new spring fashions that the ladies wear on shore?
Where is the shop you bought 'em at, and is there any more?
The captain on the quarterdeck looked at me with a frown,
Sayin', Jack, I'd buy a better suit than that for thirty pounds.
I would, sir, if I could, sir, if I'd only got the chance,
But I met a girl on Peter Street, and she asked me to a dance;
She danced my heart's deception, I got robbed from head to feet,
And I'll take my oath, no more I'll go to a dance on Peter Street.
Oh, you landsmen and you seamen, a warning take by me,
Be sure to choose good company when you go out on spree;
Be sure to choose good company or you'll find yourself like me,
With a woman's shirt and apron for to fit you out for sea!