She sailed out o' Sunderland with a cargo o' rails —
She sailed out o' Sunderland all among the March gales;
With a cargo o' steel rails toward the Baltic she bore . . .
An' she'll sail out o' Sunderland with steel rails no more!

An' no one'll tell us, for no one'll know,
If she went at last sudden, or if she went slow,
But for all that we don't know, oh, this much is sure,
She'll sail out o' Sunderland with steel rails no more.

An' the ships out o' Sunderland, they will put forth again,
Bearing up for the Baltic in the wind an' the rain,
In the wind an' the weather when the March gales do roar —
But she'll sail out o' Sunderland with steel rails no more.

An' one load o' steel rails, oh, it's just like another,
But there's no lad the same as her own to his mother —
No lad in the world like the one that she bore . . .
An' he'll sail out o' Sunderland with steel rails no more!