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the longest johns - little pot stove lyrics

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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 firеman paddy works with me on the enginеs 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

- the longest johns lyrics

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