| A’s for the anchor that lies at our bow
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| B’s for the bowsprit and the jibs all lie low
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| C’s for the capstan we all run around
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| D’s for the davits to lower the boat down
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| Merrily, merrily
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| So merry sail we, no mortal on earth like a sailor at sea
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| Heave away, haul away, the ship rolls along
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| Give a sailor his grog and there’s nothing goes wrong
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| E’s for the ensign that at our mast flew
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| F’s for the forecastle where lives our crew
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| G’s for the galley where the salt junk smells strong
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| And H for the halyards we hoist with a song
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| Merrily, merrily
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| So merry sail we, no mortal on earth like a sailor at sea
|
| Heave away, haul away, the ship rolls along
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| Give a sailor his grog and there’s nothing goes wrong
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| I’s for the eyebolts, no good for the feet
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| J’s for the jibs, boys, stand by the lee sheet
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| K’s for the knighthead where our petty officer stands
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| L’s for the leeside, hard found by new hands
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| Merrily, merrily
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| So merry sail we, no mortal on earth like a sailor at sea
|
| Heave away, haul away, the ship rolls along
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| Give a sailor his grog and there’s nothing goes wrong
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| M’s for the mainmast, it’s stout and it’s strong
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| N’s for the needle that never points wrong
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| O’s for the oars of our old jolly boats
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| And P’s for the pinnace which lively do float
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| Merrily, merrily
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| So merry sail we, no mortal on earth like a sailor at sea
|
| Heave away, haul away, the ship rolls along
|
| Give a sailor his grog and there’s nothing goes wrong
|
| Q’s for the quarterdeck where our officer stands
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| R’s for the rudder that keeps the ship in command
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| S is for the stunsells that drive her along
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| And T’s for the topsail, to get there takes long
|
| Merrily, merrily
|
| So merry sail we, no mortal on earth like a sailor at sea
|
| Heave away, haul away, the ship rolls along
|
| Give a sailor his grog and there’s nothing goes wrong
|
| U’s for the uniform, mostly worn aft
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| V’s for the vangs running from the main gaff
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| W’s for water, we’re on a pint and a pound
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| And X marks the spot where old Stormies had drowned
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| Merrily, merrily
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| So merry sail we, no mortal on earth like a sailor at sea
|
| Heave away, haul away, the ship rolls along
|
| Give a sailor his grog and there’s nothing goes wrong
|
| Y’s for the yardarm, needs a good sailor man
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| Z is for Zoe, and I’m her fancy man
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| Z’s also for zero in the cold winter time
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| And now we have brought all the letters in rhyme
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| Merrily, merrily
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| So merry sail we, no mortal on earth like a sailor at sea
|
| Heave away, haul away, the ship rolls along
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| Give a sailor his grog and there’s nothing goes wrong
|
| John Lee, your headache’s growing, the cold wind’s blowing
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| But the sea’s without a ripple
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| John Lee, your forehead’s damp, your muscles cramp
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| And the sea can’t use a cripple
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| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
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| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
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| John Lee’s been made a freeman, his heart’s a seaman
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| But his flesh won’t make a sailor
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| Working in a big hotel, waiting for the bell
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| That’s ringing for his labour
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| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
|
| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
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| John Lee, your chances are good, you better touch wood
|
| We think things must get better
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| John Lee, you’ve a friend so true, she wants to help you
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| Miss Keyes has sent a letter
|
| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
|
| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
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| «Dear John, come and work at The Glen, just write me when
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| And I’ll send someone to meet you»
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| John’s gone to where he started from, he’s not worked long, just beginning to
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| belong
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| «It hasn’t been a very good day, the missus wants to halve my pay
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| Close the door and douse the light, it’s quiet at night when he’s tucked in
|
| tight
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| Sometimes I feel, when they’re all in bed, it’s almost like the whole world’s
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| dead
|
| So I lay me down to sleep, I pray thee Lord my soul to keep»
|
| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
|
| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
|
| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee
|
| John Lee, you’re turning around your fate again
|
| Oh, John Lee |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song This Was The Happiest Period In His Life..., artist - Fairport Convention. Album song "Babbacombe" Lee, in the genre Фолк-рок