The Dole Song

You asked me to sing you a song; I'll do the best I

can

When a man goes on the dole, his troubles are just

began

It is the case of every man, in every port around

You first give in your statement, and then they'll

write it down

First they'll ask you "What's your name", and then ask

what you've got

A few old raggedy line of gear, and a couple of

lobster pots

To see what trouble a man has got, he has to tell them

so

Be careful b'ys, don't tell no lies when you goes on

the dole

Now the winter is over, and spring will soon be here

You see them with their fires all in, a tanning up

their gear

Painting up their motorboats, their dories too,

likewise

They're at it in the morning, before the sun do rise

The man who got the money, b'ys, you know he is all

right

He's got the best to eat and drink, tobacco in his

pipe

But the day will come for him to die, be laid down in

some hole

And then he'll be no better off than the poor man on

the dole