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