Lyrics:
In Yarmouth town, there lived a man
Who kept a tavern by the sand
This landlord had a daughter fair
A plump little thing with the golden hair
In Yarmouth town there lived a man
He kept a little tavern down by the Strand
And the landlord had a daughter fair
A pretty little thing with
the country roond
We're awa' to gut the herrin' we're awa' to Yarmouth toon
Rise up early in the morning wi' your bundles in your hand
Be at the station early
south through Biscayne Bay
Into the open sea
Yarmouth Castle, she's a-dyin' and don't know it
Now the many years she's been to sea
She's seen
In Yarmouth town there lived a man
He had a little tavern by the strand
And the landlord had a daughter fair
Pretty little thing with golden hair
In Yarmouth town there lived a man
He had a little tavern by the strand
And the landlord had a daughter fair
Pretty little thing with golden hair
And it’s three score and ten boys and men
Were lost from Grimsby town
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough
Many hundreds more were drowned
Their
beau
Le toit est bleu
Quand j'la r'garde
J'ai touché sa pussy
Dur d'vesqui la vague
Y'aura pas de retour
R.ē.z aka Yarmouth
Y'aura pas de retour
R.ē.z
you're telling me
It's You
Inside the car
I see my phone go off
And I hear your voice
And I don't feel quite as bad
About being in Yarmouth
Who wants
the shoals of herring
O it was a fine and a pleasant day
Out of Yarmouth harbor I was faring
As a cabinboy on a sailing lugger
For to go and hunt
A wealthy young squire near Yarmouth did dwell
He courted a lady that he knew quite well
And then for to have her it was his intent
Her friends
die
Well, the wheel went whirling onwards
Through the crisp black Yarmouth night
And the stars winked and winked at each other
And the fairground looked
once saw you through the eyes of an artist
A picasso painting, but your soul is garbage
Welcome to Yarmouth
I wish I knew you before
It was complicated,
before he turned state
Boy I'm up top and Yarmouth road
Bitch it's the gang
Turn 1 to 2
Whippin that Pyrex like it's a slave
16 hour shift when I'm
d'avoir un John Deere
J'le driverais sur le highway
Pis tout l'monde partis à Yarmouth voudra m'tuer
Mais moi j'ferais point trop dans une presse
I've got the blues, lord got the blues so bad
I've got the blues, lord got the blues so bad
Sailed out of Yarmouth with a dreadnaught and a dime
always rough
And their tongues just as tough
From Whitby to Yarmouth and to old Fleetwood town
They would travel around
The fishing's gone, the fishing's
the sun was shining sweetly at the time that she set sail,
But a mile just north of Yarmouth, boys, her luck began to fail.
Roll away, roll away, you
gone sur la Frenchys run
Les bines sont pleins
Et les temps étaient bons
Moncton, Bouctouche à Shediac
Moi j’ai bein pollé
Yarmouth, Digby, Meteghan
The god of good harvest's out Great Yarmouth way
He's the pleasure beach's best kept secret they say
Well we caught his eye as we were rolling up
Come the Revolution
Up against the wall
Freedom for Tooting
Gt.Yarmouth n all
Come the Revolution
I'm dreaming of a win
To consign them all
Grimsby town
From Yarmouth down to Scarboro
Many hundreds more were drowned
Our herring craft, our trawlers
Our fishing smacks, as well
They long did fight
Beside the garden walls, we crawl
In ancient peace
We don't need your money
In the Gulf of Maine
But closer to Yarmouth
Crustaceans untarnished
Scotia where the sea and sky are blue,
And when they call us Blue Nose, we're goldang proud they do.
From Sydney to the Yarmouth town and all points in
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