Schooner

We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of Old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.

Now the first land we made it is called the Deadman
Next Ram Head off Plymouth, off Portland the Wight
We sailed by Beachy, by Fairlee and Dungeness
Till we came abreast of the South Foreland Light


We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of Old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues

Then the signal was made for the grand fleet to anchor
All in the Downs that night for to lie
Then it's stand by your stoppers, see clear your shank-painters,
Haul all your clew garnets, let tacks and sheets fly

We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of Old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues

Now let every man toss off a full bumper
And let every man drink off a full glass
And we'll drink and be merry and drown melancholy
Singing, here's a good health to each true-hearted lass

We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of Old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues