My father often told me, when I was just a lad,
A sailor's life was very hard, the food was always bad;
But now I've joined the navy, I'm on board a man-o-war,
And now I find a sailor ain't a sailor any more!
​
Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast,
If you see a sailing-ship, it might be your last;
Get your civvies ready for another run ashore,
A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor any more!
​
The 'killick' of our mess, he says we've had it soft,
It wasn't like this in his day, when he was up aloft;
We like our bunks and sleeping bags, but what's a hammock for?
Swinging from the deckhead, or lying on the floor?
​
Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast,
If you see a sailing-ship, it might be your last;
Get your civvies ready for another run ashore,
A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor any more!
​
They gave us an engine that first went up and down,
Then with more technology the engine went around;
We're good with steam and diesel, but what's a mainyard for?
A stoker ain't a stoker with a shovel any more!
​
Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast,
If you see a sailing-ship, it might be your last;
Get your civvies ready for another run ashore,
A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor any more!
​
They gave us an Aldis Lamp, we can do it right,
They gave us a radio, we signal day and night;
We know our codes and ciphers, but what's a 'sema' for?
A 'bunting-tosser' doesn't toss the bunting any more!
​
Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast,
If you see a sailing-ship, it might be your last;
Get your civvies ready for another run ashore,
A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor any more!
​
They gave us a radar set to pierce the fog and gloom,
So now the lookout's sitting in a tiny darkened room;
Loran does navigation, the Sonar says how deep,
The Jimmy's three sheets to the wind, the Skipper's fast asleep.
​
Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast,
If you see a sailing-ship, it might be your last;
Get your civvies ready for another run ashore,
A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor any more!
​
Two cans of beer a day, that's your bleeding lot!
But now we gets an extra one because they stopped the tot;
So, we'll put on our civvy-clothes and find a pub ashore,
A sailor's still a sailor, just like he was before!
​
Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast,
If you see a sailing-ship, it might be your last;
Get your civvies ready for another run ashore,
A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor any more!
​
Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast,
If you see a sailing-ship, it might be your last;
Get your civvies ready for another run ashore,
A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor any more!
​
The Last Shanty, lyrics by Celtic Connections