Come all you good people and listen unto me
I'll tell you of a tragedy that happened on the sea
On the 18th day of January as the sun went down
The Zubenelgenubi sailed out of Newport Town

She was duly built and fitted, seaworthy, it was said
Her skipper was Steve Goodwin from out of Marblehead
He was able, strong, confident, he'd fished for 20 years
Like all brave souls upon the sea, he had respect and fear

A fisherman's life was the life for me
I made my living out on the sea
Some call me fool, some call me brave
Now I rest in a watery grave

Aside from Captain Goodwin the crew did number three
There was Newport's own Steve Kelly, a fine young man was he;
Steve Haynes and Candace Stewart, oh they made up the crew
They hauled the traps far off the shore where the pleasures they are few

And they headed for Nantucket on a week to 10-day trip
Once out the winds did howl, the barometer did dip
And the winds that lashed about, ail off New England's shore
After 10 days out we heard not one word more

(Chorus)

Winds lashed out fury, on destruction they were bent
While we in our warm houses, we waited for some news
There came no word or message of that boat or of her crew

Finally Goodwin's wife all on the 18th day
No longer could she stand, no longer could delay
She called upon the Coast Guard to search the ocean wide
And North to South and East to West, 'though nothing there was spied

Whatever was the fate of that boat or her crew
Will perhaps never be known to the likes of me or you
But we'll drink now unto them, wherever they may be
And all brave souls who risk their lives all on the ragin' sea

(Chorus)

Our bark was far, far from the land
When the bravest of our gallant band
Went deadly pale, an' pined away
Like the twilight5 of an autumn day.

We watched him through long hours of pain
Our hopes were great, our task in vain.
His end was near, we felt sad qualms
But he smiled and died in his shipmates' arms.

He had no costly winding sheet
We placed two round shot at his feet,
And we sewed him up, he was canvas-bound
Like a king he lay in his hammock sound.

We proudly decked his broken chest
With the "Blood 'n' Guts" across his breast
The flag we gave as a mark o' the brave
And he was ready for a sailor's grave.

Our voices broke, our hearts were weak
And wet was seen on the toughest cheek
We lowered him down o'er the ship's dark side
And he was received by the rollin' tide.

With a splash and a plunge and our task was o'er
And the billows rolled as they rolled before,
And many a wild prayer hallowed the wave
As he sank deep to a sailor's grave.

From Boston harbor we set sail
When it was blowing a devil of a gale,
With our ringtail set all abaft the mizzen peak,
And our dolphin striker plowing up the deep

With a big Bow-wow! Tow-row-row! Fol-de-rol de-ri-do-day!

Up comes the skipper from down below,
And he looks aloft and he looks alow,
And he looks alow and he looks aloft,
And it's "Coil up your ropes there, fore and aft."

Then down to his cabin he quickly crawls,
And unto his steward he loudly bawls,
"Go mix me a glass that will make me cough,
For it's better weather here than it is up aloft."

We poor sailors standing on the deck,
With the blasted rain all a-pouring down our necks;
Not a drop of grog would he to us afford,
But he damns our eyes with every other word.

And one thing which we have to crave
Is that he may have a watery grave,
So we'll heave him down into some dark hole,
Where the sharks'll have his body and the devil have his soul