Ah, me name is Jackie White and I'm foreman of the yard,
And ye don't mess with Jackie on this quayside.
Why I'm as hard as iron plate, woe betide ye if yr late,
When we have to push the boat out on a spring tide.
Now ye could die and hope for Heaven, but ye'd need to work your shift,
And I'd expect ye's all to back us to the hilt.
And if St. Peter at his gate were to ask ye why yr late,
Why you'd tell him that ye had to get a ship built.
We built battleships and cruisers for Her Majesty the Queen,
Super tankers for Onassis, and all the classes in between,
We built the greatest shipping tonnage that the world has ever seen,
And the only life we've known is in the shipyard.
All the platers and the welders, and the boiler making crews,
When they see that bugger finished on the slipway,
All the hardship's soon forgot and we'll cheer as like as not,
And the bairns'll wave their Union Jacks all day.
It's a patriotic scene, all that's missing is the Queen,
But she said she couldn't make it of a Tuesday.
Then something wells up here inside, and you could take it in yr stride,
But you wonder if you'll see another payday.
For there's a mixture of emotions, hatred, gratitude and pride,
And you hate yourself for crying but it's difficult to hide,
For there's a sadness in the leavin' and ye worry what's ahead,
And that worry never leaves ye, keeps on nagging in yr head,
And so ye pray to God for orders, but ye'll worry till yr dead...
Until they bury your remains in the blacksmith's shed,
And the only life ye've known is in the shipyard.
Steel in the stockyard,
Iron in the soul,
We'll conjure up a ship where there used to be a hole.
And I don't know what we'll do if this yard gets sold,
For the only life we've known is in the shipyard