North to the Faeroe Islands, south to the coast of Spain West with the whaling fleet and up to the pole again Over the world of water, seventeen seas we've strayed Now to the north we're sailin back to the trawlin' trade Come, ye bold sea-farin' lads There's fortunes to be made In the trawlin' trade Back to the midnight landings, back to the fish salt smell Back to the frozen winds that bite like the teeth of hell Back to the strangest game that ever a man has played Haul the stormy rollers back to the trawlin' trade Come, ye bold sea-farin' lads There's fortunes to be made In the trawlin' trade Doon wi yer nets and tackle, doon wi yer nets and gear Wait for the winches winding, wait for the deckie's cheer Up wi the shining harvest, glittering silver spray Down to the decks below to pay for the trawlin' trade Come, ye bold sea-farin' lads There's fortunes to be made In the trawlin' trade Home wi the harvest wind and back to the Humber tide Down to the water's edge and jump to the waterside Roll with a rolling bunch of fishermen newly paid Down to dockside pubs to drink to the trawlin' trade Come, ye bold sea-farin' lads There's fortunes to be made In the trawlin' trade