| It’s a damn tough life full of toil and strife
|
| We whalermen undergo
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| And we won’t give a damn when the gale is done
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| How hard the winds did blow
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| We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Grounds
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| With a good ship taut and free
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| And we won’t give a damn when we drink our rum
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| With the girls of Old Maui
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| Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Grounds
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| Once more we sail with a Northerly gale
|
| Through the ice, and wind, and rain
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| Them coconut fronds, them tropical shores
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| We soon shall see again
|
| For six hellish months we passed away
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| On the cold Kamchatka sea
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| But now we’re bound from the Arctic Grounds
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Grounds
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| Once more we sail with the Northerly gale
|
| Towards our Island home
|
| Our whaling done, our mainmast sprung
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| And we ain’t got far to roam
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| Our stans’l booms is carried away
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| What care we for that sound
|
| A living gale is after us
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| Thank God we’re homeward bound
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Grounds
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| How soft the breeze through the island trees
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| Now the ice is far astern
|
| Them native maids, them tropical glades
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| Is awaiting our return
|
| Even now their big, brown eyes look out
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| Hoping some fine day to see
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| Our baggy sails running 'fore the gales
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Grounds
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui
|
| We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Grounds
|
| Rolling down to Old Maui |