  The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds— The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, an' 'e gives 'er all she needs; But, oh, the little cargo-boats, that sail the wet seas roun', They're just the same as you an' me a-plyin' up an' down! Plyin' up an' down, Jenny, 'angin' round the Yard, All the way by Fratton tram down to Portsmouth 'Ard; Anythin' for business, an' we're growin' old— Plyin' up an' down, Jenny, waitin' in the cold! The Liner she's a lady by the paint upon 'er face, An' if she meets an accident they call it sore disgrace: The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e's always 'andy by, The Liner she's a lady, and 'er route is cut an' dried; The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, an' 'e always keeps beside; But, oh, the little cargo-boats that 'aven't any man! They've got to do their business first, and make the most they can. The Liner she's a lady, and if a war should come, The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e'd bid 'er stay at home; But, oh, the little cargo-boats that fill with every tide! 'E'd 'ave to up an' fight for them, for they are England's pride. The Liner she's a lady, but if she wasn't made, There still would be the cargo-boats for 'ome an' foreign trade. The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, but if we wasn't 'ere, 'Ome an' friends so dear, Jenny, 'angin' round the Yard, All the way by Fratton tram down to Portsmouth 'Ard; Anythin' for business, an' we're growin' old— 'Ome an' friends so dear, Jenny, waitin' in the cold! |
|
