My husband's a saucy foretop man,
A chum of the cook's don't you know?
He put his hand down the cook's funnel,
And shouted "come up from below!"
Ch: Eight bells, eight bells, rouse out there the watch from below,
Eight bells, eight bells, rouse out there the watch from below!
My husband shipping in a whaler,
And sailed to the far Northern Seas;
But being a bold-hearted sailor,
He cared not for ice, sea, or breeze.
At the end of each watch though his fancy
Was to get to his bunk quickly, oh!
For he wanted to dream of his Nancy,
So called to the watch "hi, below!"
But now he's no longer a sailor
He often wakes up in the night
And thinking he's still on the whaler
Calls out with the greatest delight: