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It was Friday morn when we sat sail
And we were not far from the land
When our captain he spied a mermaid so fair
With a comb and a glass in her hand
And the ocean waves do roll
And the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the land-lubbers lie down below, below, below
While the land-lubbers lie down below
Then up spoke the captain of our gallant ship
And a fine old man was he
"This fishy mermaid has warned me of our doom
We shall sink to the bottom of the sea"
And the ocean waves do roll
And the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
