| With our nets and gear we’re faring
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| On the wild and wasteful ocean
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| Its there that we hunt and we earn our bread
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| As we hunted for the shoals of herring
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| O it was a fine and a pleasant day
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| Out of Yarmouth harbor I was faring
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| As a cabinboy on a sailing lugger
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| For to go and hunt the shoals of herring
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| O the work was hard and the hours long
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| And the treatment, sure it took some bearing
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| There was little kindness and the kicks were many
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| As we hunted for the shoals of herring
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| O we fished the Swarth and the Broken Bank
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| I was cook and I’d a quarter sharing
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| And I used to sleep standing on my feet
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| And I’d dream about the shoals of herring
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| O we left the homegrounds in the month of June
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| And to Canny Shiels we soon were bearing
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| With a hundred cran of silver darlings
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| That we’d taken from the shoals of herring
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| Now you’re up on deck, you’re a fisherman
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| You can swear and show a manly bearing
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| Take your turn on watch with the other fellows
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| While you’re searching for the shoals of herring
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| In the stormy seas and the living gales
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| Just to earn your daily bread you’re daring
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| From the Dover Straits to the Faroe Islands
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| As you’re following the shoals of herring
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| O I earned my keep and I paid my way
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| And I earned the gear that I was wearing
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| Sailed a million miles, caught ten million fishes
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| We were sailing after shoals of herring |