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Leave the land behind, laddie, better days to find,
The companies have the money and they'll soon teach you the skills;
Green fields fall away, the forties and the brae,
Be a madman or a roustabout, they'll soon teach you to drill.
But who will tend me sheep when I'm far o'er the deep?
Amanertune or the sea quest when the snow comes to the hill.
La, la, la, ....
Leave the fishing trade, lads, there's money to be made,
The hand-line and the Shetland yawl are of a bygone day;
Come to Aberdeen; sights you've never seen!
Be a welder on the pipeline or a fitter out on the bay.
But when the job is over and your boat rots on the shore,
How will you feed your family when the companies go away?
La, la, la, ....
There's harbours to be built, lads, rigs to tow and tilt,
To rest upon the ocean bed like pylons in the sea;
Pipeline to be laid and a hundred different trades,
That'll pay a decent living wage to the likes of you and me.
I know 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 Fluppatemunke shore a new industry is born,
Old Peterhead and Pomerty will never be the same.
I know 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.
La, la, la, ....
