There's some that's bound for New York Town,
And more that's bound for France;
Heave away, me Johnnies
Heave away.
And there's more that's bound for the Bengal Bay,
To teach them whales to dance;
Heave away, me Johnny boys
We're all bound to go.
Now the pilot he is waiting for,
The turning of the tide;
Heave away, me Johnnies
Heave away.
And then, me boys, we'll be gone again,
With a good and westerly wynd;
Heave away, me Johnny boys
We're all bound to go.
Come all you hard working sailor lads,
Who around the horn has stormed;
Heave away, me Johnnies
Heave away.
Be sure of your boats and your oilskins,
Or you'll wish you never was born;
Heave away, me Johnny boys
We're all bound to go.
Farewell to you, you Kingston girls,
Farewell to St. Andrews dock;
Heave away, me Johnnies
Heave away.
And if ever we return again,
We'll make your cradles rock;
Heave away, me Johnny boys
We're all bound to go.
Heave away, me Johnny boys
We're all bound to go.