| Come sailors listen unto me:
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| Chorus: Come down you bunch of roses, come down
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| A lovely song I’ll sing to thee.
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| Chorus: Oh, you pinks and posies,
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| Come down, you red, red roses, come down.
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| A whale is bigger than a mouse;
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| Come down you bunch of roses, come down
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| A sailor’s lower than a louse.
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| Oh, you pinks and posies,
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| Come down, you red, red roses, come down.
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| The cook he rolled out all the grub:
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| One split pea in a ten-pound tub.
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| In eighteen hundred and fifty-three
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| We set sail for the Southern Sea.
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| In eighteen hundred and fifty-five
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| I was breathing but not alive.
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| In eighteen hundred and fifty-seven
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| We sailed up to the gates of Heaven.
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| Saint Peter would not let us in.
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| He sent us back to earth again.
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| All this is true that I do tell.
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| The ship we’re on’s a livin' Hell.
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| The captain’s covered o’er with fur;
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| Has grown a tail like Lucifer. |