It happened in Gothenburg, at the stroke of four o'clock,
I took myself to Kusten' wharf, just to find myself a ship
Hey ho, fallerallera! Hey, ho, fallerallera!
Just to find myself a ship!
There I met a very thin man, he hailed me right at once,
"And will you sign on with me now, I'm lying here and loading?"
And the brig's name was Bernadotte, and the skipper's name was Peter,
They said he was a decent bloke, instead he was a devil.
Bernadotte is a splendid brig, with brass belayin' pins,
And we inspect the rigging, every blessed Sunday morning.
If you live aft then you live well, with every kind of dishes,
The fo'c'sle just has rotten pork, and peas fourteen times running.
And Peter now he lay and snored, so that the whole ship quivered,
Then we struck on Marstrand's rocks, so hard that the masts shiver'd.
It happened then in the Spanish Seas, that we should reef the fores'l,
But the Old Man he blew his top and began to paste the cook.
Then after that upon the poop, he paced and paced and thought,
He said: "If I only dared, I should paste the lot of you."