The Herring Song (Williamson Robin)

As many fine fishes as swim with the tide Sing aberamvane, sing aberoling My herrings the king of them all in their pride Sing aberamvane, sing aberoling Sing fishes, sing tide, sing king, sing pride Sing aberamvane, sing aberoling And indeed I have more of my herring to sing Sing aberamvane, sing aberoling What do you think I made of his eyes? Forty five puddings and forty five pies What do you think I made of his mouth? As many red cherries as grow in the South What do you think I made of his tail? The finest ship that ever set sail What do you think I made of his belly? A sweet little girl and her name it was Nelly The man in the wilderness said to me "How many strawberries grow in the sea?" I answered him as I thought goo "As many red herring as grow in the wood."