way down South where the [bad word] do crow, 
Way down in Florida 
Them gals all dance to the old banjo. 
And we'll roll the woodpile down

 [bad word]  
Rollin! Rollin! Rollin the whole world round, 
That brown gal of mine's on the Georgia line! 
And we'll roll the woodpile down!

When I was a young man in my prime, 
I danced with the brown gals two at a time.

We'll roll him high and we'll roll him low, 
We'll hoist him up anyway we'll go.

Oh - roust and bust her is the cry, 
sailor's wage is never high.

My dear old mother wrote to me: 
"Tom, my [bad word] home from sea."

She sent me money she sent me clothes, 
I drank the money and I pawned the clothes.

One more pull and that'll do, 
For we're the boys to kick her through.