Oh, a hundred years on the Eastern Shore,
Oh, aye, oh!
A hundred years on the Eastern Shore.
A hundred years ago!
Ol' Bully John from Baltimore,
I knew him well, that son-of-a-whore.
Ol' Bully John was the boy for me,
A bully on shore an' a bucko at sea.
Ol' Bully John I knew him well,
But now he'd dead and gone to hell.
He's dead as a nail on the lamproom floor,
He's dead as a nail, that son-of-a-whore.
A hundred years have passed and gone,
'Tis a hundred years since I made this song.
They used to think that pigs could fly,
Can you believe this bloody lie?
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They thought the stars were set alight,
By a bunch o' angels every night.
They thought the world was flat or square,
That old Columbus never got there.
They thought the moon was made o' cheese,
You can believe it, if you please.
They thought that mermaids were no yarn,
But we know better 'cos we can larn.
They hung a man for making steam,
They cast his body in the stream.
Oh very long time an' a very long time
'Tis a hell o' a time since I made this rhyme.
Oh, don't yiz hear the old man say,
Just one more pull, lads, then belay!
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