I’s the b’y (I’m the boy)


I’s the b’y that builds the boat
and I’s the b’y that sails her
I’s the b’y that catches the fish
And takes then home to ‘Liza

Hip you partner, Sally Tibbo
Hip you partner, Sally Brown
Fogo, Twillingate, Morton’s Harbour
All around the circle

Sods and rinds to cover your flake
Cake and tea for supper
Codfish in the spring of the year
Fried in maggoty butter

I don’t want your maggoty fish
That’s no good for winter
I could buy as good as that
Down in Bonavista

I took ‘Liza to a dance
I’faith, but she could travel
Every step that she did take
Was up to her knees in gravel

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