E                            B  
Oh, a shanty-man's life is a wearisome life,  
         C#m           B       C#m  
although some think it void of care 
 E                  B  
Swinging an ax from morning till night  
       C#m          B          C#m 
in the midst of the forests so drear. 
E                   C#m  
Lying in the shanty bleak  
                   E                       C#m 
and cold while the cold stormy wintry winds blow,  
       F#          C#m       F#    E             C#m      B       C#m 
And as soon as the daylight doth appear, to the wild woods we must go. 

 E                            B  
Oh, the cook rises up in the middle of the night saying,  
         C#m           B       C#m  
“Hurrah, brave boys, it's day." 
 E                  B 
Broken slumbers ofttimes are passed  
       C#m          B          C#m 
as the cold winter night whiles away. 
                   E              C#m 
Had we rum, wine or beer our spirits  
                   E                       C#m 
for to cheer in days so lonely do dwine, 
and cold while the cold stormy wintry winds blow,  
       F#          C#m       F#    E             C#m      B       C#m 
Or a glass of any shone while in the woods alone for to cheer up our troubled minds. 

 E                            B  
But when spring it does set in, double hardships begin,  
         C#m           B       C#m  
when the waters are piercing cold, 
 E                  B 
And our clothes are dripping wet and fingers benumbed,  
       C#m          B          C#m 
and our pike-poles we scarcely can hold. 
                   E         C#m 
Betwixt rocks, shoals and sands  
                   E                       C#m 
give employment to all hands our well-banded raft for to steer, 
and cold while the cold stormy wintry winds blow,  
       F#          C#m       F#    E             C#m      B       C#m 
And the rapids that we run, oh, they seem to us but fun, for we're void of all slavish fear. 


 E                            B  
Oh, a shanty lad is the only lad I love,  
         C#m           B       C#m  
and I never will deny the same. 
 E                  B 
My heart doth scorn these conceited farmer boys  
       C#m          B          C#m 
who think it a disgraceful name. 
                   E             C#m 
They may boast about their farms,  
                   E                       C#m 
but my shanty-boy has charms so far, far surpassing them all, 
       F#          C#m       F#    E             C#m      B       C#m 
Until death it doth us part he shall enjoy my heart, let his riches be great or small.