The Weavers
Greenland Whale Fisheries
When the whale gets strike, and the line run down
And the whale makes a flunder with its tail
And the boat capsized, and I lost my darling man;
No more, no more Greenland for you, brave boys
No more, no more Greenland for you

It was in eighteen hundred and fifty-three
On June the thirteenth day
That our gallant ship her anchor weighed
And for Greenland sailed away, brave boys
And for Greenland sailed away

The lookout on the crosstree stood
With a spyglass in his hand
"There's a whale, there's a whale
There's a whalefish," he cries
"She blows out every span, brave boys
She blows out every span."

We struck that whale and the line paid out
But she made a flunder with her tail;
And the boat capsized and four men were drowned
And we never caught that whale whale, brave boys
We never caught that whale

"To lose the whale," the captain cried
"It grieves my heart full sore;
But to lose four of my gallant crew
It grieves me ten times more, brave boys
It grieves me ten time more."
Oh, Greenland is a dreadful place
A land that's never green
Where there's ice and snow, and the whalefishes blow
And daylight is seldom seen, brave boys
And daylight is seldom seen

When the whale gets strike, and the line run down
And the whale makes a flunder with its tail
And the boat capsized, and I lost my darling man;
No more, no more Greenland for you, brave boys
No more, no more Greenland for you