Traditional
Greenland Whale Fisheries
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
Twas march the eighteenth day
We hoisted our colors to the top of the mast
And for Greenland boor away, brave boys
And for Greenland boor away

The lookout in the cross-trees stood
With a spyglass in his hand;
Theres a whale, there's a whale
A whale-fish he cried
And she blows at every span, brave boys
And she blows at every span

Now the boats were launched and the men aboard
And the whale was full in view
Resolved it was each seaman bold
To steer it where the whale-fish blew, brave boys
To steer it where the whale-fish blew

We stuck that whale and the line played out
And the whale made a flounder with her tail
The boat capsized and we lost a gallant crew
And we never caught that whale, brave boys
And we never caught that whale

To lose those men, our captain said
It grieves my heart full sore
But lose the sale of a hundred barrel whale
Well it grieves me ten times more, brave boys
Well it grieves me ten times more
Now Greenland is a dreadful place
A place that’s never green
Where there's ice and snow, and the whale-fishes blow
And the daylights seldom seen brave boys
And the daylights seldom seen