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[G]Leave the land behind, laddie, you've better days to find
The[C] companies have the mon[G]ey and they'll so[Am]on
teach you the sk[D7]ills
Gre[G]en fields far away, laddie, the forties and the brae
Be a mud[C]man or a rou[G]stabo[Em]ut,
you'll soon [D]learn how to[G] drill
But[D] who will tend the sheep when[C] I'm far o'er the [G]deep?
On the Nep[C]tune
or the Sea[G]quest when the sn[Am]ow comes to the[D7] hill
Leave the fishing trade, laddie, there's money to
be made
The hand-line and the Shetland yawl are from a bygone day
Come to Aberdeen, laddie; sights you've never seen!
Be a welder on the pipeline or a fitter at Nigg Bay
But when the job is o'er and my boat rots on the shore
How
will I feed my family when the companies move away?
There's harbours to be built, lads, rigs to tow and tilt
To
rest upon the ocean bed, like pylons in the sea
Pipelines to be laid and a hundred different trades
That will pay a
decent living wage to the likes of you and me
I ken you're men of worth; you're the best that's in the north
Not
men of greed, but men who need the work that's come your way
From Flotta to Kishorn a new industry is born
Now Peterhead
and Cromarty will never be the same
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