A bawdy wenching song:

When the ships all get to sailing and the men are off to roam,
What about the women who are up and left alone?
Do you think we sit and twiddle thumbs until our men come home?
There's other things to twiddle when a girl's left on her own.


And it's twiddley-aye-de-aye-de-aye, twiddley-aye-de-aye,
There's often a times a man can leave you broken with dismay,
And it's twiddley-aya-de-aye-de-aye, twiddley-aye-de-aye,
There's other things to twiddle when your man has gone away.

Sweet Miss Nancy Johnson was as fair as any maid,
Her true love when a-voyagin', a sailor man by trade,
"Keep the fires burnin', love," those were the words he spoke,
So she found herself another man, to keep the fire stoked.


Lucy Duncan's man came home and knocked upon the door,
She was as glad to see him as she'd ever been before,
He left her lying on the bed, but Lucy didn't care,
'Cause the fellow in the closet too could use a little air.


Now you hear a lot of stories about the sailor and his sport,
About how every lad has got a girl in every port,
Well, if you've added two and two, you'll figure out right quick,
It's just because a girl has got a lad on every ship.


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