A shanty man's life is a wearisome one, Though some say it's free from care. It's the swinging of an axe From morning till night In the forest wild and drear.
Transported as we are from a lady so fair To the banks of some lonely stream Where the wolf, bear and owl Give a terrifying howl And disturb our nightly dreams.
Oh, sleeping at night In our bunks without cheer While the cold winter winds do blow. But as soon as the morning star does appear To the wild woods we must go.
Had we ale, wine or beer Our spirits far to cheer When we're in those woods so wild. Where a glass of whiskey shone When we're in the woods alone For to pass away our long exile.
A shanty man's life is a wearisome one, Though some say it's free from care. It's the swinging of an axe From morning till night In the forest wild and drear.