Little Pot Stove

In that wee dark engine room where the chill seeps through your soul

How we huddled 'round that little pot stove

That burned oily rags and coal

How the winter blizzards blow when the whaling fleet's at rest

Tucked in Leith Harbour's sheltered bay, safely anchored ten abreast

The sailors at their stations as from ship to ship they go

Carry little bags of coal with them and a little iron stove

In that wee dark engine room where the chill seeps through your soul

How we huddled 'round that little pot stove

That burned oily rags and coal

The fireman Paddy works with me on the engines stiff and cold

A stranger to the truth is he; there's not a lie he hasn't told

Well, he told me of his goldmine and of all the hearts he'd won

And his bonnie sense of humour shone just like a ray of sun

In that wee dark engine room where the chill seeps through your soul

How we huddled 'round that little pot stove

That burned oily rags and coal

We laboured seven days a week with cold hands and frozen feet

The bitter days and lonely nights, making grog and having fights

Salt fish and whale meat sausage, fresh penguin eggs a treat

And we trudged along to work each day through icy wind and sleet

In that wee dark engine room where the chill seeps through your soul

How we huddled 'round that little pot stove

That burned oily rags and coal

And then one day we saw the sun and the whaling fleet return

Meet your old friends, sing a song, pray the season won't be long

Then it's homeward bound when it's over, yes we'll leave this icy hole

But I always will remember that little iron stove

In that wee dark engine room where the chill seeps through your soul

How we huddled 'round that little pot stove

That burned oily rags and coal