As I was walkin' down London Road, I came to Paddy West's house
He gave me a dish of American hash and he called it Liverpool scouse
He said, "There's a ship, she's taking hands, and on her you must sign
The mate's a bastard, the captain's worse, but she will do ya fine."
Take off your dungaree jackets and give yourselves a rest
And think of them cold nor'westers we had in Paddy West's
Now Paddy he pipes all hands on deck, there's stations for to man
His wife, she's stood in the doorway with a bucket in her hand
And Paddy, he cries, "Now, let 'er rip!" and she throws the water our way
Crying, "Clew up your fore t'gan'sl, boys, she's taking on the spray!"
Take off your dungaree jackets and give yourselves a rest
And think of them cold nor'westers we had in Paddy West's
Now seeing she's off to southward, to Frisco she was bound
Now Paddy he takes out a length of rope and he lays it on the ground
And we all steps over and back again, and he says to me, "That's fine
If they ask were you ever at sea, you can say you've crossed the line"
Take off your dungaree jackets and give yourselves a rest
And think of them cold nor'westers we had in Paddy West's
"Now there's just one thing for you to do before you sail away
Just step around the table where the bullock's horns do lay
If they ever ask, 'Were you ever at sea?' you can say, 'Ten times 'round the Horn'
By Jesus, you're an old sailor man from the day that you were born."
Put on your dungaree jackets, and walk out looking your best
And tell 'em you're an old sailor man that comes from Paddy West's
