Oh, times were hard and the wages low,
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her.â€
I guess it's time for us to go.
“It's time for us to leave her.â€
Beware these packet ships, I say.
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her.â€
They'll steal your stores and your clothes away.
“It's time for us to leave her.â€
There's Liverpool Pat with his tarpaulin hat,
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her.â€
And Yankee John, the pocket rat.
“It's time for us to leave her.â€
She would not wear and she would not stay,
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her.â€
She shipped great seas both night and day.
“It's time for us to leave her.â€
Its rotten beef and waverly bread,
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her.â€
It was pump or drown, the old man said.
“It's time for us to leave her.â€
The sails all furled, our work is done,
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her.â€
And now ashore we'll take our run.
“It's time for us to leave her.â€
Oh, what will us poor shellbacks do?
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her.â€
Our money's gone, more work to do.
“It's time for us to leave her.â€