Aft on the main deck, walking about, There is the starboard watch so sturdy and so stout; Thinking of the sweathearts and we hope that they are well And I wish that you would hurry up and strike, strike the bell. Strike the bell second mate, let's go below; Look well to windward you can see it's gonna blow; Look at the glass, you can see it has fell, And I wish that you would hurry up and strike, strike the bell Aft on the wheel a sailor boy he stands Seizing the spokes with his cold mitten hands Thinking of his mother and we hope that she is well And I wish that you would hurry up and strike, strike the bell Nothing in sight, Sir, the lights are burning bright Relieve at the helm and I wish you good night Dreaming of our sweethearts and we hope that we'll sleep well And I wish that you would hurry up and strike, strike the bell.