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GOODBYE, MY LOVER, GOODBYE Lead: Richard Chorus: Peter, Dick Holdstock, Denis Franklin, and Shay Black

Another capstan shanty from the Great Lakes sailors in America that was used frequently on grain boats in Chicago or Milwaukee, also taken from Windjammers: Songs of the Great Lakes Sailors by Ivan H. Walton and Joe Grimm, 2002.

Concerning Goodbye, My Lover, Goodbye, Walton says "This chantey was sung when all hands worked the capstan kedging a vessel out of her loading dock or raising anchor preparatory to towing out of the harbor for a down trip to Buffalo. It expressed none too subtly the professional sailor's contempt for landlubbers and, like all other chanteys, could be extended as long as the chanteyman could think of new rhymes. The general idea seems to be that the greenhorn sailor will be a wiser man when he reaches port. This is collected from Captain Thomas Hylant of Buffalo and George Leach of St. Clair, Michigan."

LYRICS:

A farmer boy stands on the deck
Chorus: Good-bye, my lover, good-bye
He's eatin' peanuts by the peck
Chorus: Good-bye, my lover, good-bye

Full Chorus:
Good-bye, aye, good-bye, my lads
Good-bye, my lover, good-bye

He should a'stayed with his mules and plow
He thinks the rudder's in the bow

He walks the deck with farmer's feet
He don't know a halyard from a sheet

He thinks himself a hell of a tar
As he pushes around a caps'n bar

When the night winds blow and the seas they roar
He'll curse the day he left the shore

When the green seas roll across our deck
He'll pray for the Lord to save his neck

When the old ship rolls all day 'n' night
It'll turn him green and blue and white

When he has to go aloft at night
He'll soil his drawers in his awful fright

He'll know aloft from down below
Before we sight old Buffalo

Additional verses from the book not used in this recording:

He came on board with his Sunday clothes
In his Sunday hat and his Sunday hose

He thinks himself the old ship's match
He don't know his stern from the after hatch

He thinks from evenin' till morning light
In his warm bed he'll dream all night

The mate will say, "Wow, mister Jack,
This chair'll be easier on your back!"

At him the Old Man looks so grim
He thinks his eyes is a'getting' dim