Song of the three mariners

We be three poor mariners,

Newly come from the seas;

We spend our lives in jeopardy,

While others live in ease.

Shall we go dance the round, the round,

Shall we go dance the round;

And he that is a bully boy,

Come pledge me on this ground.

We care not for those martial men

That do our states disdain;

But we care for the merchantmen

Who do our states maintain.

To them we dance this round, around,

To them we dance this round;

And he that is a bully boy,

Come pledge me on this ground.