When by the rhymes and poems I get bored,
When of a written line I can’t make any sense
I desperately squeeze the finger-board
And sing about sailors to my friends.

In spite of all the cares that there may be,
And though I’ve got so many things to do on land
Sailors, take me with you, out to the sea
On board the ship I’ll be a helping hand.

All kinds of creatures swim about the sea,
And none of them impedes you in the way,
Whereas on land each passerby you see
Will push you, step on you and run away.

In spite of all my cares that here at home may be,
Regardless of the things I have to do on land;
Take me to the sea, send out a boat for me,
On board the ship I’ll be a helping hand.

The world is not held up by whales or boats,
You know it’s not for company of three.
You can’t take liberties in alien ports;
But I don’t do it in my own, nor at sea.