Oh, the times were hard and the wages are low,
Leave her, Johnny, leave her.
I think it’s time for us to go,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
Oh, I thought I heard the old man say,
Leave her, Johnny, leave her:
Tomorrow you will get your pay,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
Leave her, Johnny, leave her,
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her.
For the voyage is done and the winds don’t blow,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
It’s rotten beef and weevily bread.
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her.
It’s pump or drown the old man said,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
The wind was foul and the sea ran high.
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her.
She shipped it green and none went by,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
Leave her, Johnny, ...
I hate to sail on this rotten tub.
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her.
No grog allowed and rotten grub,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
The ship won’t steer, or stay, or wear,
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her.
And so us shellbacks learnt to swear,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
Leave her, Johnny, ...
The old man shouts, the pumps stand by,
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her.
Oh, we can never suck her dry,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
We swear by rote for want of more,
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her.
But now we’re through so we’ll go onshore,
And it’s time for us to leave her.
Leave her, Johnny, ...
Traditionel shanty o. 1840