Spanish Ladies

Farewell and adieu unto you Spanish ladies
 Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain
 For we have received orders to sail to old England
 We hope in a short time to see you again
 We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
 We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
 Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England
 From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
 We hove our ship to with the wind on sou'west, boys
 We hove our ship to, deep soundings to take
 Twas forty-five fathoms, with a white sandy bottom
 So we squared our main yard and up channel did make
 We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
 We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
 Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England
 From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
 Now let every man drink off his full bumper
 And let every man drink off his full glass
 We'll drink and be jolly and drown melancholy
 Here's to the health of each true-hearted lass
 We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
 We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
 Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England
 From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
 The first land we made was called the Dodman
 Next Ram Head off Plymouth, off Portland the Wight
 We sailed by Beachy, by Fairlee and Dover
 Then abreast away for South Foreland Light
 We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
 We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
 Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England
 From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
 The signal is made for the grand fleet to anchor
 And all in the Downs that night for to lie;
 Let go your shank painter, let go your cat
 Haul up your clewgarnets
 let tacks and shAnnotateeets fly!
 We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
 We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
 Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England
 From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
 Now let every man drink off his full bumper
 And let every man drink off his full glass
 We'll drink and be jolly and drown melancholy
 Here's to the health of each true-hearted lass
 
 We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
 We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
 Until we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England
 From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues