Do not be fooled by the name of the song, I'm not leaving quite yet.
Farewell and adieu to you, fair Spanish ladies
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain
For we've received orders
For to sail for old England,
But we hope in a short time to see you again.
We'll rant and we'll roar, like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas;
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.
Then we hove our ship to, with the wind at sou'west, boys,
Then we hove our ship to, for to strike soundings clear;
Then we filled the main topsail
And bore right away, boys,
And straight up the Channel of old England did steer.
The first land we made, was a point called the Deadman,
Next Ram Head, off Plymouth, Start, Portland, and Wight;
We sailed by Beachy,
By Fairlee and Dungeness,
And then bore away for the South Foreland Light.
Now the signal it was made for the Grand Fleet to anchor
All in the Downs that night for to meet;
Then stand by your stoppers,
See clear your shank painters,
Hawl all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets.
Let every man here drink up his full bumper,
Let every man drink up his full bowl;
For we will be jolly
And drown melancholy,
And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass.