Lyrics: traditional
Up on the poop deck,
Walking all about
There stands the second mate,
So sturdy and so stout
What he’s a’thinkin’,
He don’t know himself
We wish that he would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell
Strike the bell second mate
And let us go below
Look well to windward,
You can see its gon ‘ta blow
Lookin’ at the glass,
You can see that it has fell
We wish that you would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell
Down on the main deck
Working on the pumps
The poor larboard watch is
Wishing for their bunk
Looking out to windward
You can see a mighty swell
We wish that you would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell
Strike the bell second mate
And let us go below
Look well to windward,
You can see its gon ‘ta blow
Looking at the glass,
You can see that it has fell
We wish that you would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell
Down in the wheelhouse,
Old Anderson stands
Grasping at the helm
With his frost bitten hands
Lookin’ cockeyed at the compass,
But the course is clear as well,
We wish that you would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell
Strike the bell second mate
And let us go below
Look well to windward,
You can see its gon ‘ta blow
Looking at the glass,
You can see that it has fell
We wish that you would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell
Down in his cabin,
Our gallant captain stands
Looking out the transom
With a spyglass in his hands
What he is a-thinking,
We all know very well
He’s thinking more to shorten sail
Then strikin’ the bell
Strike the bell second mate
And let us go below
Look well to windward,
You can see its gon’ta blow
Looking at the glass,
You can see that it has fell
We wish that you would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell
