| Bored yet busy with my hands
|
| Cargill you’ll have me round the bend
|
| Cargill you’re pulling all the strands
|
| Of my heartstrings entangled in your net
|
| My luck’s turned thrawn
|
| Always the quayside chores
|
| A sister on each arm
|
| Strong of shoulder weak at the knees
|
| Cargill I’m the finest catch that you’ll land
|
| Cargill do not presume to understand
|
| The dread of counting home the fleet
|
| The sudden thrill of seeing you’re safely back
|
| Your catch has fallen at your feet
|
| Cargill do not presume to understand
|
| The dread of sounding the alarm
|
| The sudden thrill of seeing you’re safely back
|
| Cargill I’m the finest luck that you’ll charm
|
| Cargill do not presume to understand
|
| The dread of counting home the fleet
|
| The sudden thrill of seeing you’re safely back
|
| Cargill I’m the finest catch that you’ll land
|
| Cargill I’m the finest luck that you’ll charm
|
| Cargill I’m the finest catch that you’ll land |