| Leave the land behind, laddie, better days to find
|
| The companies have the money and they’ll soon teach you the skills
|
| Green fields fall away, the forties and the brae
|
| Be a madman or a roustabout, they’ll soon teach you to drill
|
| But who will tend me sheep when I’m far o’er the deep?
|
| Amanertune or the sea quest when the snow comes to the hill
|
| La, la, la…
|
| Leave the fishing trade, lads, there’s money to be made
|
| The hand-line and the Shetland yawl are of a bygone day
|
| Come to Aberdeen; |
| sights you’ve never seen
|
| Be a welder on the pipeline or a fitter out on the bay
|
| But when the job is over and your boat rots on the shore
|
| How will you feed your family when the companies go away?
|
| La, la, la…
|
| There’s harbors to be built, lads, rigs to tow and tilt
|
| To rest upon the ocean bed like pylons in the sea
|
| Pipeline to be laid and a hundred different trades
|
| That’ll pay a decent living wage to the likes of you and me
|
| I know you’re men of worth; |
| you’re the best that’s in the north
|
| Not men of greed, but men who need the work that’s come your way
|
| From fluppatemunke shore a new industry is born
|
| Old Peterhead and Pomerty will never be the same
|
| I know you’re men of worth; |
| you’re the best that’s in the north
|
| Not men of greed, but men who need the work that’s come your way
|
| La, la, la… |