A# F
Oh, a shanty-man's life is a wearisome life,
Gm F Gm
although some think it void of care
A# F
Swinging an ax from morning till night
Gm F Gm
in the midst of the forests so drear.
A# Gm
Lying in the shanty bleak
A# Gm
and cold while the cold stormy wintry winds blow,
C Gm C A# Gm F Gm
And as soon as the daylight doth appear, to the wild woods we must go.
A# F
Oh, the cook rises up in the middle of the night saying,
Gm F Gm
“Hurrah, brave boys, it's day."
A# F
Broken slumbers ofttimes are passed
Gm F Gm
as the cold winter night whiles away.
A# Gm
Had we rum, wine or beer our spirits
A# Gm
for to cheer in days so lonely do dwine,
and cold while the cold stormy wintry winds blow,
C Gm C A# Gm F Gm
Or a glass of any shone while in the woods alone for to cheer up our troubled minds.
A# F
But when spring it does set in, double hardships begin,
Gm F Gm
when the waters are piercing cold,
A# F
And our clothes are dripping wet and fingers benumbed,
Gm F Gm
and our pike-poles we scarcely can hold.
A# Gm
Betwixt rocks, shoals and sands
A# Gm
give employment to all hands our well-banded raft for to steer,
and cold while the cold stormy wintry winds blow,
C Gm C A# Gm F Gm
And the rapids that we run, oh, they seem to us but fun, for we're void of all slavish fear.
A# F
Oh, a shanty lad is the only lad I love,
Gm F Gm
and I never will deny the same.
A# F
My heart doth scorn these conceited farmer boys
Gm F Gm
who think it a disgraceful name.
A# Gm
They may boast about their farms,
A# Gm
but my shanty-boy has charms so far, far surpassing them all,
C Gm C A# Gm F Gm
Until death it doth us part he shall enjoy my heart, let his riches be great or small.