Oh, blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!
Way, hey, blow the man down,
Oh, Blow the man down, bullies, blow him right down!
Oh, gimme some time to blow the man down.

As I was a-rollin' down Paradise Street,
Way, hey, blow the man down,
A big Irish copper I chanced for to meet,
Oh, gimme some time to blow the man down.

"Oh, you're a blackballer by the cut of your hair,
And you're a blackballer by the clothes that yez wear!"

Policeman, policeman, you do me great wrong,
I'm a flying-fish sailor just home from Hong Kong.

"No, you're signed on some packet that flies the black ball,
And you've robbed some poor Dutchman of boots, clothes, and all."

So, I smashed in his face and I stove in his jaw,
Sez he, "Look here, young fella, you're breakin' the law."

Well, they gave me six months in Liverpool town,
For a-beatin' and a-kickin' and a-blowin' him down.

A Liverpool ship and a Liverpool crew,
A Liverpool mate and a Scouse skipper, too.

We're Liverpool born, boys, and Liverpool bred,
Thick in the arm, boys, and thick in the head.