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The Shantyman's Life
Dan Zanes
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Oh the shanty man's life is a wearisome life
Although some think it void of care
Swinging an axe from morning to night
In the midst of a forest so drear
Lying in the shanty, bleak and cold
While the cold stormy wintry winds blow
And as soon as the daylight doth appear
To the wild woods we must go
Oh the cook rises up in the middle of the night
Saying, "Hurrah brave boys, it's day"
Broken slumbers oft times are passed
As the cold winter night wiles away
Had we rum, wine or beer, our spirits for to cheer
As the day so lonely doth fly
Oh a glass of any shone while in the woods alone
For to cheer up our troubled minds
But when spring it doth set in, double hardships begin
When the waters are piercing cold
Our clothes are dripping wet and fingers benumbed
And our pike poles we scarcely can hold
Betwixt rocks, shoals and sand, give employment to all hands
Our well-banded raft for to steer
And the rapids that we run, oh they seem to us but fun
For we're void of all slavish fear
Oh a shanty lad is the only lad I love
I never will deny the same
My heart does scorn these conceited farmer boys
Who think it a disgraceful name
They may boast about their farms but my shanty boy has charms
So far, far surpassing them all
Until death it doth us part, he shall enjoy my heart
Let his riches be great or small
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