It’s a mighty tough life full of toil and strife

We whaler-men under go
And we really don’t care when the gale is done

How hard them winds did blow

We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Sound

With a good ship taut and free
And we’ll have our fun when we drink our rum

With the girls of Old Maui
Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Ground
Rolling down to Old Maui
Once more we sail with a Northerly gale

Through the ice, and wind, and rain

Them coconut fronds, them tropical lands

We soon shall see again

Six brutal months have passed away

On the cold Kam-chat-ka sea

But now we’re bound from the Arctic ground

Rolling down to Old Maui
Once more we sail the Northerly gale

Going towards our Island home

Our mainmast sprung, our whaling done

We ain’t got far to roam

Our stans’l booms is carried away

What care we for that sound

A living gale is after us

Thank God we’re homeward bound
How soft the breeze through the island trees

Now the ice is far astern

Them native maids, them tropical glades

Is awaiting our return

Even now their big, round eyes look out

Hoping some fine thing to see

Our baggy sails running ‘fore the gales

Rolling down to Old Maui

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