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For thirty long years he carried the sack
With the flour on his brow and the bend in his back
He delivered the brown and he delivered the white
But Steve hears the call of the ocean tonight (hey!)
No more baking the Hovis loaves!
Steve's headed out
where the cold wind blows!
Throw down the flour,
pick up the line He fancies himself a captain this time! (yo-ho!)
He traded his apron for oilskin and boots
Left the dry bakery and cut all his roots
He's chasing the cod and he's chasing the bream
But sailing is harder than baking a dream (haul away!) No more
baking the Hovis loaves!
Steve's headed out
where the cold wind blows!
Throw down the flour,
pick up the line He fancies himself a captain this time! (yo-ho!)
The waves they are high
and the weather is rough
Steve's finding out
that the water is tough
And back on the shore,
the word goes around
Sally loves Scotty more than Steve in this town
So row boys, row to the harbor light
Steve's coming home with no catch tonight (ahhhh)