Oh! this is the place where the fishermen gather, 
With oilskins and boots, and Cape Anns battened down 
All sizes of figures with squid lines and jiggers, 
They congregate here on the squid jiggin' ground. 

Some are workin' their jiggers while others are yarnin' 
There's some standin' up and some more lyin' down, 
While all kinds of fun, jokes and tricks are begun 
As they wait for the squid on the squid jiggin' ground. 

Holy Smoke! what a bussle; all hands are excited. 
It's a wonder to me that nobody is drowned. 
There's a bussle, confusion, a wonderful hussle; 
They're all jiggin' squid on the squid jiggin' ground. 

There's poor Uncle Billy, his whiskers are spattered 
With spots of the squid juice that's flyin' around. 
One poor little boy got it right in the eye; 
But they don't care a hang on the squid-jiggin' ground. 

Now if you ever feel inclined to go squiddin', 
Leave your white shirts and collars behind in the town, 
And if you get cranky without a silk hanky, 
You'd better steer clear of the squid jiggin' ground.