The Dole Song

You asked me to sing you a song; I'll do the best I
 can
 When a man goes on the dole, his troubles are just
 began
 It is the case of every man, in every port around
 You first give in your statement, and then they'll
 write it down
 First they'll ask you "What's your name", and then ask
 what you've got
 A few old raggedy line of gear, and a couple of
 lobster pots
 To see what trouble a man has got, he has to tell them
 so
 Be careful b'ys, don't tell no lies when you goes on
 the dole
 Now the winter is over, and spring will soon be here
 You see them with their fires all in, a tanning up
 their gear
 Painting up their motorboats, their dories too,
 likewise
 They're at it in the morning, before the sun do rise
 The man who got the money, b'ys, you know he is all
 right
 He's got the best to eat and drink, tobacco in his
 pipe
 But the day will come for him to die, be laid down in
 some hole
 And then he'll be no better off than the poor man on
 the dole