Home Boys, Home

Oh well, who wouldn't be a sailor lad a 'Sailin' on the main

To gain the goodwill of his captain's good name

He came ashore one evening for to be

And that was the beginning of my own true love and me

And its home, boys home

Home I'd like to be, home for a while in my own coun-try

Where the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree

Are all a-growing green in the old country

Well I asked her for a candle for to light me up to bed

And likewise for a handkerchief to tie around me head

She tended to me needs like a young maid ought to do

So then I says to her: 'Now won't you leap in with me too?'

And its home, boys home

Home I'd like to be, home for a while in my own coun-try

Where the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree

Are all a-growing green in the old country

Well she jumped into bed, making no alarm

Thinking a young sailor lad could do to her no harm

Well I hugged her and I kissed her the whole nightlong

Till she wished the short night had been seven years long

And its home, boys home

Home I'd like to be, home for a while in my own coun-try

Where the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree

Are all a-growing green in the old country

Well early next morning the sailor lad arose

And into Mary's apron threw a handful of gold

Saying, 'Take this me dear for the mischief that I've done

For tonight I fear I've left you with a daughter or a son'

And its home, boys home

Home I'd like to be, home for a while in my own coun-try

Where the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree

Are all a-growing green in the old country

'Well, if it be a girl child, send her out to nurse

With gold in her pocket and with silver in her purse

And if it be a boy child he'll wear the jacket blue

And go climbing up the rigging like his daddy used to do'

And its home, boys home

Home I'd like to be, home for a while in my own coun-try

Where the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree

Are all a-growing green in the old country

Oh, come all of you fair maidens, a warning take by me

And never let a sailor lad an inch above your knee

For I trusted one and he beguiled me

He left me with a pair of twins to dangle on me knee

And its home, boys home

Home I'd like to be, home for a while in my own coun-try

Where the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree

Are all a-growing green in the old country