THE COLLEEN OF PARADISE STREET (Liverpool)

My Grandad, an old sea-dog, has an impressive memory for shanties, hymns, carols and dirty songs in general. He typed up a couple, and a googling I went for it, to see if there were any variations or missing verses available, and to my mild, very mild shock, this one doesn't seem to be on the internet yet.

So for any mariners, nautical notetakers and verse-loggers out there, here is the version I've been sent.  Let's call it the 'official' version.

THE COLLEEN OF PARADISE STREET (Liverpool)

As I was a-walking down Paradise Street,
A fair Irish colleen I chancèd to meet.
She was round in the counter and bluff in the bow,
Her spars were of silver, her sails they hung low.

Chorus:  Heave away, heave away,
                  From Springbok to The Mersey's
                   An awful long way

Now where are you going  fair colleen, I cried?
I'm bound for The Cape of Good Hope, she replied.
So I put out my hawser and took her in tow
And yard-arm to yard-arm away we did go

We sailed on so merrily, so merrily and gay,
Till we came to an anchorage in the recognised way.
Then I clewed up her tops'ls and mains'ls and all
And she put her hand on my topga'n's'l's fall.

Now for this young colleen my heart was afire
And for a few moments I did her admire.
Then I opened her hatches, found plenty of room
And into her tween decks I stowed my jib boom.

Now the shot locker's empty, the powder's all spent.
The gun barrel's chokèd way up in the vent
And 'twas  all through that colleen, that colleen so fair
That I'm in the drydock awaiting repair.

Now all you young sailormen take warning from me.
If ever that fair Irish colleen you see,
Sheer off to the windward and give her your lee,
For that Irish colleen was the ruin of me.