We’ve a dandy ship
And a dandy crew;
A dandy mate
And a captain too;
A dandy doctor
Who’s a dand’ old sinner,
And a dandy darkey
To cook the dinner.
Chorus. It’s dance, sailors, dance!
It’s dance, the sailors, dance!
We’ll dance all night till the broad daylight,
And then go to sea in the mornin’!
We’ve a dandy lot
Of passengers,
Who live on chicken
And sassengers;
A dandy steward
To steer their mess;
Likewise a dandy—
Stew—ard—ess!
Chorus. It’s dance, the sailors, dance!
It’s dance, the sailors, dance!
We’ll dance all night till the broad daylight,
And then go to sea in the mornin’!
“Shiftin’ and changin’ it is understood,”
Said Abner Chapin, “never come to good.”
“Yes,” quoth the Stranger, “that is very true,
Who goes for many gets but very few;
Who travels zigzag makes full many a cross,
And rolling stones ne’er gather any moss;
The explanation of which word is funny:
In common Yiddish Hebrew, moss means money,
And stones are men—take Peter for a sample—
Excuse me, friends, I know of an example
Of a loose fish who changed about so long
He first became a byword, then a song,
Which I will sing you though it is distressin’,
Not that you need it—as a moral lesson.”