Song 321: "The Gals o' Dublin Town"/"The Gals o' Chile"

Sometimes we’re bound for Liverpool
Sometimes we’re bound for France
But now we’re bound to Leirvik town
To give them gals a chance

Hoorah, hoorah
For the gals ò Dublin town
Hoorah, for the bonnie green flag
And the harp without the crown

Sometimes we’re bound for furrin’ parts
sometimes we’re bound for home
A Johnny’s always at his best
Wherever he may roam

Sometimes the weathers fine and fair
sometimes it’s damn well foul
sometimes it blows a Cape horn breeze
that freezes up your soul

Sometimes we are a happy crowd
sometimes we’ll sing a song
sometimes we’d wish we’d never been born
but we do not grouse for long

And when the voyage is all done
and we go away on shore
We’ll spend our money on the whores
Then go to sea for more!


To Chile's coast we are bound away
Timme heave-ho, hang 'er Hilo
To Chile's coast we are bound away
An' we'll dance an' all drink pisco!
We are bound away at the break o' day
Where the little Spanish gals are so bright an' so gay
Timme heave-ho, hang 'er Hilo
Sing olay for them Spanish gals!

An' when we get to Vallipo,
Timme heave-ho, hang 'er Hilo
An' when we get to Vallipo,
We'll dance an' all drink pisco!
Dance the gals up the street with a roll-'n'-go,
Grab 'em round the middle an' we won't let go.
Timme heave-ho, hang 'er Hilo
Sing olay for them Spanish gals!

Them gals o' Chile, they are hard to beat.
From truck to keel they are trim an' sweet,
They're all a-pullin' on the ol' main-sheet.

Them senoritas, they are smart and gay,
They dance an' drink till the break o' day,
Then clean ye out an' blow yer pay.

Rosita, Anna, and Carmen too,
They'll greet ye with a hullabaloo,
An' soon ye'll know what they can do.

My trim little frigate is a very smart craft,
She's armed to the teeth both fore 'n' aft,
Sharp at the bows with a fine view abaft.

Them ol' senyoras, as we know well
They're red-hot divils drom the other side o' hell
An' ye'll niver get a chance for to ring a Chile bell

When the time comes for to sing farewell
Goodbye to the gals an' our money as well
Callyo, Coquimbo, an' ol' Corynel