Dave Guard
'Tis advertised in Boston, New York, and Buffalo a hundred hearty sailors, a whalin' for to go.
Chorus:
Blow, ye winds, O' mornin', blow, ye winds, hi ho. Haul away your runnin' gear and blow, boys, blow.
They tell you of the clipper ships a-runnin' in and out. They say you'll take five hundred whales before you're six months out.
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The skipper's on the after deck a-squintin' at the sails. When up above the lookout spots a mighty school of whales.
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Then lower down the boats, my boys, and after him we'll travel but if you get too near his tail, he'll kick you to the devil.
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And now that he is ours, my boys, we'll bring him alongside. Then over with our blubber hooks and rob him of his hide.
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When we get home, our ship made fast, and we get through our sailin'. A brimmin' glass around we'll pass and hang this blubber whalin'.
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