Motley Words

It’s a damn tough life full of toil and strife we sailors undergo.
And we don’t give a damn when the gale has stopped how hard the
wind did blow
For ‘Homeward bound’ – ‘tis a grand old sound with a good ship taut
and free,
And we don’t give a damn when we drink our rum with the girls of
Brightlingsea

Rolling down to Brightlingsea my boys,
Rolling down to Brightlingsea;
We’re homeward bound from the fishing ground
Rolling down to Brightlingsea.

Once more we sail with a Northerly gale through cold and wind and rain
Them Essex girls with their golden curls we soon shall see again.
Even now their soft blue eyes look out hoping soon they’ll be able to see
Our baggy sails running ‘fore the gales rolling down to Brightlingsea,

How warm the breeze no more we freeze, now the cold is far astern.
Our mainmast sprung our sailing done they’re awaiting our return.
And soon ashore we’ll have some fun, we’ll paint old Tower Street red,
And awake in the arms of a luvverly maid with a big fat aching head.

Chorus x2