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Poem	In Lowestoft a boat was laid, Mark well what I do say! And she was built for the herring-trade, But she has gone a-rovin', a-rovin', a-rovin', The Lord knows where! They gave her Government coal to burn, And a Q.F. gun at bow and stern, And sent her out a-rovin', etc. Her skipper was mate of a bucko ship Which always killed one man per trip, So he is used to rovin', etc. Her mate was skipper of a chapel in Wales, And so he fights in topper and tails-- Religi-ous tho' rovin', etc. Her engineer is fifty-eight,' So he's prepared to meet his fate, Which ain't unlikely rovin', etc. Her leading-stoker's seventeen, So he don't know what the Judgments mean, Unless he cops 'em rovin', etc. Her cook was chef in the Lost Dogs' Home, Mark well what I do say! And I'm sorry for Fritz when they all come A-rovin', a-rovin', a-roarin' and a-rovin', Round the North Sea rovin', The Lord knows where!
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