(Verse 1)
Our shantyman is Barnaby, the worst you’ll ever hear,
His squawking turns the biscuit sour and curdles all the beer!
He misses every single beat, he skips the proper rhyme,
And not a man upon the deck can keep the hauling time!
He sounds just like a dying gull that’s choked upon a crab,
Or rusty hinges scraping on a muddy cutter’s slab!
(Chorus)
So haul the line in silence, boys, and do not make a sound,
We’ll find a better singer when the vessel turns around!
The ocean holds its secrets deep, beneath the rolling foam,
And a terrible musician is a-going to his home!
(Verse 2)
I greased the starboard grating right beside the galley door,
Where the rollers tumble highest and the ocean noises roar!
He stepped upon the slippery wood, he lost his footing quite,
And vanished with a howling shriek into the pitch-black night!
But as he hit the water, boys, a monster emerged from under,
A massive whale that swallowed him with jaws of rolling thunder!
(Chorus)
So haul the line in silence, boys, and do not make a sound,
We’ll find a better singer when the vessel turns around!
The ocean holds its secrets deep, beneath the rolling foam,
And a terrible musician is a-going to his home!
(Verse 3)
We thought our ears were saved at last, but then the ocean stirred,
The most god-awful melody from the deep was plainly heard!
Old Barnaby was down below, a-singing in the dark,
Tormenting every creature from the minnow to the shark!
The great beast breached in agony, it couldn't bear the strain,
And launched him high into the sky with a spout of frantic pain!
(Chorus)
So haul the line in silence, boys, and do not make a sound,
We’ll find a better singer when the vessel turns around!
The ocean holds its secrets deep, beneath the rolling foam,
And a terrible musician is a-going to his home!
(Verse 4)
He landed right back on the deck, completely soaked in slime,
He grabbed a rope, blew out his nose, and started keeping time!
The whales all fled the territory, swimming for their lives,
To find a quiet harbor for their children and their wives!
So now we endure his screeching voice, the worst upon the sea,
For even death itself won't take our dreadful Barnaby!
(Chorus)
So haul the line in silence, boys, and do not make a sound,
We’ll find a better singer when the vessel turns around!
The ocean holds its secrets deep, beneath the rolling foam,
And a terrible musician is a-going to his home
