You bully boys of Liverpool And I'll have you to beware, When you sail on them packet ships, no dungaree jackets wear; But have a big monkey jacket all ready to your hand, For there blows some cold nor'westers (the Northwesterly Winds) on the Banks of Newfoundland. We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her with holy stone and sand, For there blows some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland. We had Jack Lynch from Ballynahinch, Mike Murphy and some more, And I tell you by's, (boys) they suffered like hell on the way to Baltimore; They pawned their gear in Liverpool and they sailed as they did stand, But there blows some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland. We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her with holy stone and sand, For there blows some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland. Now the mate he stood on the fo'c'sle (forecastle) head and loudly he did roar, Now rattle her in me lucky lads, you're bound for America's shore; Come wipe the blood off that dead man's face and haul or you'll be damned, But there blows some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland. We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her with holy stone and sand, For there blows some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland. So now it's reef and reif, me boys With the Canvas frozen hard and this mountain pass every Mother's son on a ninety foot topsail yard nevermind about boots and oilskins but holler or you'll be damned But there blows some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland. We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her with holy stone and sand, And we'll think of them cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland. So now we're off the Hook, me boys, and the land is white with snow, And soon we'll see the pay table and we'll spend the whole night below; And on the docks, come down in flocks, those pretty girls will say, Ah, It's snugger with me than on the sea, on the Banks of Newfoundland. We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her with holy stone and sand, And we'll think of them cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland.