Lyrics:
The worst old ship that ever did sail,
Sailed out of Harwich on a windy day.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay.

She was built in Roman time,
Held together with bits of twine

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay.

Nothing in the galley—nothing in the hold,
But the skipper's turned in with a bag of gold.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay.

Off Orford Ness she sprang a leak,
Hear her poor old timbers creak.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay.

We pumped our way round Lowestoft Ness,
When the wind backed round to the west-sou'-west.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay.

Into the Humber and up the town,
Pump you blighters—pump or drown.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay.