Rolling Down to Old Maui

It's a damn tough life_ full of toil and strife_ we whaler-men undergo_ And we don't give a damn when the gale is done_ how hard the winds did blow_ For we're homeward bound from the Arctic ground with a good ship_ taut and free_ And we won't give a damn 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 the northerly gale through the ice and wind and rain_ Them coconut fronds_ them tropical lands_ we soon shall see again_ Six hellish months we've passed away on the cold Kamchatka sea_ But now we're bound from the Arctic ground_ rolling down to 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 the northerly gale_ towards our island home_ Our mainmast sprung_ our whaling done_ and we ain't got far to roam_ Our stu'n's'l booms is carried away_ what care we for that sound?_ A living gale is after us_ thank God we're homeward bound!_ 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_ 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 brown eyes look out_ hoping some fine day to see_ Our baggy sails_ running 'fore the gales_ rolling down to 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_ 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_