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Come all ye bold fellows that have to this place come,
And we’ll sing in the praise of good brandy & rum,
Let’s lift up our glasses, good cheer is our goal,
Bring in the punch ladle, we’ll fathom the bowl.
(Chorus)
We’ll fathom the bowl, we’ll fathom the bowl,
Bring in the punch ladle, we’ll fathom the bowl.
From France we do get brandy and from Jamaica comes rum,
Sweet oranges & lemons from Portugal come,
But stout, beer & cider are England’s control,
Bring in the punch ladle, we’ll fathom the bowl. (Chorus)
Oh, my wife she do disturb me as I lie at my ease,
She does as she likes and she says as she please,
My wife she’s the devil, she’s black as the coal,
Bring in the punch ladle, we’ll fathom the bowl. (Chorus)
Oh, my father he do lie in the depths of the sea,
No stone at his head, but what matters to he,
Here’s a gallon of strong cider, his death to console,
Bring in the punch ladle, we’ll fathom the bowl. (Chorus)
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