Lyrics

Roll the Woodpile Down

Away down South where the cocks do crow,
Way down in Florida.
Them gals all dance to the old banjo.
And we’ll roll the woodpile down.

Chorus:
Rollin! Rollin! Rollin the whole world round,
That brown gal of mine’s on the Georgia line!
And we’ll roll the woodpile down!

When I was a young man in my prime,
Way down in Florida.
I danced with the brown gals two at a time.
And we’ll roll the woodpile down. (Chorus)

We’ll roll him high and we’ll roll him low,
Way down in Florida.
We’ll hoist him up anyway we’ll go.
And we’ll roll the woodpile down. (Chorus)

Oh – roust and bust her is the cry,
Way down in Florida.
A sailor’s wage is never high.
And we’ll roll the woodpile down. (Chorus)

My dear old mother wrote to me:
Way down in Florida.
“Jon, my son, come home from sea.”
And we’ll roll the woodpile down. (Chorus)

She sent me money she sent me clothes,
Way down in Florida.
I drank the money and I pawned the clothes.
And we’ll roll the woodpile down. (Chorus)

One more pull and that’ll do,
Way down in Florida.
For we’re the boys to kick her through.
And we’ll roll the woodpile down. (Chorus)

Song Notes

This traditional sea shanty features an easy call-and-response, is a little randy without being rancid and brings to mind the many southern ports that tall ships would call on.