~~~ *** ~~~

The fishermen of old St. John's,
They sailed the ocean blue,
Pulling in their nets of fish,
Cod, sole and flounder too.

Though their work was heavy,
They didn't seem to care,
Singing old sea shanties
As they breathed the salty air.

"Heave ho, out we go
With the morning tide,
To face another day at sea,
The groom and his bride."

Then suddenly the sky grew dark
And a gusty gale blew,
The churning ocean sank their ship
And she lost all her crew.

The wailing sobs of the families
Could be heard along the shore,
The sea had claimed a victory
And they'd see their men no more.

For years the men had braved the sea,
It was their way of life,
To be at one with the mighty brine,
Laments each mournful wife.

The sons of sons now harvest the sea,
As their fathers did before,
Singing the song of fishermen,
'Twas thus and ever more.

"Heave ho, out we go,
With the morning tide,
To face another day at sea,
The groom and his bride."

~~~ *** ~~~