Swim Out, You're Over Your Head.
At the Battery I landed one morning in May, boys
A stranger unknown in this land,
The same as Christopher Columbus, the hero,
Who no one would take by the hand;
I've worked, I've struggled, I've labored,
By the sweat of my brow to get bread,
Now I'm tould by the young generation,
To swim out, I'm over my head!
They say, shoot the hat upon Sunday,
Take a walk round the block, go to bed,
Part your hair in the middle, McNally,
Swim out, for you're over your head.
I belong to an organization of nine, boys.
Who surely refuse you a drop,
Unless you were taken wid terrible cramps.
Whin you drink till ould death makes you stop;
But since I have became a mimber,
I'm always confined to my bed,
Now I'm tould by the grand committee.
To swim out, I'm over my head.-Chorus.
They say I have plenty of chin for to give you,
I never mind wasting my breath,
I'm acquainted wid all of the bould undertakers.
Who'd plant you whin I talk you to death;
By heavens! I never will tumble,
I'll drop to the bottom like lead,
They say, take a moon on a jumble,
Swim out, for you're over your head.-Chorus.