When I sailed across the sea
Liza said she'd be true to me.
I promised her a golden ring
She promised me that little thing.
Oh Liza Lee, she slighted me,
Now she will not marry me.
Up aloft this yard must go,
Mister mate, he told us so.
I thought I heard the skipper say,
One more pull and then belay.
Additional verses from Jim Mageean's 2012 recording