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Whup Jamboree

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Whup Jamboree

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Whup Jamboree

Whup jamboree, whup jamboree,
Oh, a long-tailed sailor man comin' up behind!
Whup jamboree, whup jamboree,
Come an' get your oats, me son!

The pilot he looked out ahead,
The hands on the chain and the heavin of the lead,
And the old man roared to wake the dead,
Come and get your oats, me son!

Oh, now we see the Lizard light,
Soon, me boys, we'll heave in sight,
We'll soon be abreast of the Isle Of Wight,
Come and get your oats, me son!

Now when we get to the Blackwall docks,
Those pretty young girls come out in flocks,
With short-legged drawers and long tailed frocks,
Come and get your oats, me son!

Well, then we'll walk doon Limelight way,
And all the girls will spend our pay,
We'll not see more `til another day,
Come and get your oats, me son!

note: even expurgation can get folk-processed. RG
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