Hardi! les gars, vire au guindeau
Ch: Good bye farewell, good bye farewell
Hardi! les gars, adieu Bordeaux!
Ch: Hourra ! oh! Mexico!
Au cap Horn il ne fera pas chaud
Ch: Haul away, hé! Oula tchalez
A faire la pêche au cachalot
Ch: Hal' matelot, hé! ho! hisse hé! ho!

Plus d'un y laissera sa peau

Adieu misère, adieu bateau!
Et nous irons à Valparaiso
Où d'autres laisseront leurs os

Ceux qui r'viendront pavillon haut
C'est premier brin de matelot
Pour la bordée il seront à flot
Bons pour le rack, la fille, le couteau

'Twas on a dark and stormy night well southward of the Cape,
And from a stiff nor'-wester we'd just made our escape.
Like an infant in his cradle rocked, ihe breeze lulled us to sleep,
While peacefully we ploughed along the bosom of the deep.

At last the helmsman gave a shout of terror and of fear,
As if he had just gazed upon some sudden danger near.
We looked all round the ocean and there upon our lee
We saw the Flying Dutchman come bounding through the sea.

Take in all flowing canvas, now, our watchful master cried,
For this for our ship's company great terror does betide.
The billows tossed all white with foam and dangerous did appear,
As the wind sprang to a hurricane and auld Van Dyke came near.

Here comes the Flying Dutchman, comes fast through the hissing spray,
And proceeding by the tempest he heads for Table Bay.
With bird-like speed he's borne along before the howling blast,
But he never can cast anchor there, for the Bay, alas, he's passed.

Moan, ye Flying Dutchman, moan, for horrible is thy doom:
The ocean round the stormy Cape it is thy living tomb;
For there Van Dyke must beat about forever, night and day;
He tries in vain his oath to keep to anchor in Table Bay.

Lasses, call your lads ashore
Lasses, call your lads ashore
Lasses, call your lads ashore
There's liberty for the sailors
Liberty and money free,
Liberty and money free,
There's liberty and money free,
There's liberty for the sailors

The Bellman's called it round the town,
And far and near the news has flown
Each wife seeks out her last new gown
There's liberty for the sailors
Lasses, call your lads ashore
Lads ashore, lads ahore
Lasses, call your lads ashore
There's liberty for the sailors

Our bairns shall all be dressed so nice
Our griddle cakes be black with spice
With a pound of butter for every slice
All for to please the sailors
Our empty bottles we will fill
To cheer each passing hour until
The time is up, with right good will
Liberty for the sailors.

Rare fun down Mauldon's lane there'll be
And many a lark down Lishman's Quay
Tommy Hayes is sure to get on the spree
When there's liberty for the sailors.
There'll be a battle as sure as your life
'Twixt Mally the Pant and the black-pudding wife
And Billy Reppeth'll come in at the end of the strife,
Hoo! Liberty for the sailors.

Dressed in his jacket of matchless blue
With silver buckles and trousers new
With a heart that beats for his country true,
Liberty for the sailors.
Up to the Wooden Bridge and back,
To the Low Light shore down in a crack
Rambling, swaggering, away goes Jack
When there's liberty for the sailors.

Now every lass will get her lad
And every bairn will see his dad
And many a mother's heart be glad
With liberty for the sailors,
And many a widow's heart rejoice
To see the face and hear the voice
So like to his, her heart's dear choice
Liberty for the sailors!