Blood red roses

North American halyard shanty

Me bonnie bunch of roses, O!
Go down, ye blood red roses, go down.
Tis time for us to roll and go!
Go down, ye blood red roses, go down.
(And it’s) oh, ye pinks and posies, go down,
Ye blood red roses, hang down.


Our boots and shoes are all in pawn,
And it’s mighty drafty round Cape Horn.

Tis growl ye may but go ye must,
If ye growl too much your head they’ll bust.

It’s round Cape Horn we’ve got to go,
For that is where the whalefish blow.

It’s round Cape Horn we’ve got to go,
To chase them whales through ice and snow.

It’s round Cape Horn we’ve got to sail,
For sunken ships will tell no tales.

We’re bound away round Cape Horn,
We’ll wish to hell we’d niver been born.

Our dear old captain said to me,
We'll plunder to a high degree.

My dear old mother she said to me,
My dearest son come home from sea.

Oh, rock and shake her is the cry,
The bleedin’ topmast sheave is dry.

Just one more pull and that will do,
For we’re the boys that pull her through.

When we reach shore we’ll dance around,
We’ll drive them roses underground.