(c) 2014 Drew Nicholson
Father it’s not the priesthood for me
I’m far too much a lover of life
To spend my days saying “live and let be”
Or taking confession from those put to the knife.
No, a sailor I’ll be, Father, a sailor I shall be
Though the storms have me tossing and turning
A sailor I’ll be, father, on the deep, dark sea
For far voyages have I been yearning.
Father, it’s not the smithy for me
To pound iron to plough-shares and swords
As men off to battle, their backs will I see
Yet ne’er hear a commander’s swift words.
Father it’s not wholesome marriage for me,
With a girl that I hardly know
Instead I’ll consort with one, two or three
And have all of them put on a show
Father it’s not the army for me
A marching at sergant’s commands
I’ll not help to make people other than free
I’ll not help to enslave other lands
Father it’s not a graveyard for me
To rot in the dark underground
Rather, a mermaid will take away me
To dream in the deep of the sound.