It's a rough tough life of toil and strife
We whale-men undergo.
And we don't give a damn when the gales are strong
How hard the winds do blow.
We are homeward bound! 'Tis a damn fine sound
On a good ship taut and free,
And we don't give a damn when we drink our rum
With the girls of old Maui.
(Chorus)
Rolling down to old Maui, my boys,
Rolling down to old Maui.
We're homeward bound from the arctic 'round
Rolling down to old Maui.
Once more we sail with a northerly gale
Through the ice and sleet and rain.
Them coconut fronds in them tropic lands
Oh, we soon shall see again.
Six hellish months have passed away
In the cold Kamchatka sea,
And now we're bound from the arctic 'round,
Rolling down to old Maui.
(Chorus)
We'll heave the lead where old Diamondhead
Looms up on Oahu.
Our mast and yards are sheathed with ice
And our decks are hid from view.
The horrid ice of the sea-cut tiles
That deck the Arctic Sea
Are miles behind in the frozen wind
Since we steered for old Maui.
(Chorus)
How soft the breeze of the tropic seas
Now the ice is far astern,
And them native maids in them island leis
Are awaiting our return.
Even now their big black eyes look out
Hoping some fine day to see
Our baggy sails running 'fore the gales
Rolling down to old Maui.
(Chorus)
And now we're anchored in the bay
With the Kanakas all around
With chants and soft aloha oes
They greet us homeward bound.
And now ashore we'll have good fun
We'll paint them beaches red
Awaken in the arms of a native maid
With a big fat aching head.
(Chorus X2)