Lyrics:

What ails you, my daughter dear?Your eyes, they look so dim,Have you had any sore sickness,Or yet been sleeping with a man?No I haven't had any sore sickness,But I know what's ailing me,I am thinking of my own true loveWho ploughs the raging sea.Is he a lord or a duke or a knightOr a man of wealth and fame?Or is he one of our sailor ladsCome tell me now his name.He is no lord nor duke nor knightNor a man of wealth or fame.He is one of your sailor ladsJohn Barbour is his name.Now if John Barbour is his name,A lowly sailor man is he,If John Barbour is his name,Then hanged he shall be.Then he called his sailors allBy one, by two, by threeJohn Barbour was the first he calledBut the last came down was he.When he came a dancing down,He was clothed all in whiteHis cheeks were like the roses redAnd his teeth were ivory bright.He paid their wages with a smileAnd to John Barbour he did sayIf I was a woman as I am a manMy bed fellow you would be.And will you marry my daughter Jane?And take her by the handAnd will you come and dine with meTake charge of all my lands.Yes I will marry your daughter JaneAnd take her by the handAnd I will come and dine with you,But to hell with all your land.For if you can give her one gold piece,Then I can give her three.For they call me young John BarbourAnd I plough the raging sea.