Come ‘prentice lads and seamen bold
and listen to my song,
I'll tell you how I met the fate
when I was very young.
It was on the day I came from sea
a flash girl I did meet,
She kindly asked me to a dance
‘twas up on Peter Street.
And away, you Santee, my dear Annie!
Oh, you New York gals,
can't you dance the polka!
When we got to the ballroom, boys,
the liquor was brought in,
And all of them waltzed round the room
as the dancin' did begin.
And then when the dance was over
we straight to bed did go.
How little did I ever think
she'd prove me overthrow.
When I came to next morning
nothing could I spy,
But a lady's skirt and apron there
upon the bed did lie.
Me watch, me coat, and 80 pounds
with me fancy one had fled,
And there was I, Jack, all alone,
stark naked in bed.
Now everything was quiet,
for the hour was twelve o'clock.
So, I put that skirt and apron on
and I hauled off for the dock.
Me shipmates, when I came on board,
these words to me did say:
"Hey, Jack you got much prettier
since last you went away!
Is that the new spring fashion
the ladies wear on shore?
Where is the shop that sells them?
Have they got any more?"
Now, the old man, he said: "Jack, me boy,
I'm sure you could have found
A better suit than that by far
to buy for 80 pounds!"
Well, I could have bought a better suit
if I'd only had the chance,
But I met this gal on Peter Street
and she took me to a dance.
I danced to me destruction,
I got stripped from head to feet
And I swear an oath I'll go no more
to a dance on Peter Street!