North to the Faeroe Islands, south to the coast of Spain
West with the whaling fleet and up to the pole again
Over the world of water, seventeen seas we've strayed
Now to the north we're sailin back to the trawlin' trade
Chorus (after each verse):
Come, ye bold sea-farin' lads
There's fortunes to be made
In the trawlin' trade
Back to the midnight landings, back to the fish salt smell
Back to the frozen winds that bite like the teeth of hell
Back to the strangest game that ever a man has played
Haul the stormy rollers back to the trawlin' trade
Doon wi yer nets and tackle, doon wi yer nets and gear
Wait for the winches winding, wait for the deckie's cheer
Up wi the shining harvest, glittering silver spray
Down to the decks below to pay for the trawlin' trade
Home wi the harvest wind and back to the Humber tide
Down to the water's edge and jump to the waterside
Roll with a rolling bunch of fishermen newly paid
Down to dockside pubs to drink to the trawlin' trade
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