Can I survive this overbearing

Act 1 - Can I survive this overbearing - D'Oyly Carte Opera Company/Thomas Round/Donald Adams/Joyce Wright/George Cook/Jean Hindmarsh/Gillian Knight/Eric Wilson-Hyde/D'Oyly Carte Opera Chorus/New Symphony Orchestra Of London/Isidore Godfrey

Lyrics by：William Schwenck Gilbert

Composed by：Arthur Sullivan

Can I survive this overbearing

Or live a life of mad despairing

My proffered love despised rejected

No no it's not to be expected

Messmates ahoy

Come here

Come here

Aye aye my boy

What cheer what cheer

Now tell us pray

Without delay

What does she say

What cheer what cheer

The maiden treats my suit with scorn

Rejects my humble gift my lady

She says I am ignobly born

And cuts my hopes adrift my lady

Oh cruel one

Oh cruel one

She spurns your suit

O-ho

O-ho

I told you so I told you so

Shall we submit

Are we but slaves

Love comes alike to high and low

Britannia's sailors rule the waves

And shall they stoop to insult

No no

You must submit you are but slaves

A lady she

O-ho

O-ho

You lowly toilers of the waves

She spurns you all I told you so

Shall they submit

Are they but slaves

You must submit

You are but slaves

A lady she

O-ho

She spurns you all

She spurns you all I told you so

My friends my leave of life I'm taking

For oh my heart my heart is breaking

When I am gone oh prithee tell

The maid that as I died I loved her well

Of life alas his leave he's taking

For ah his faithful heart is breaking

When he is gone we'll surely tell

The maid that as he died he loved her well

Be warned my messmates all

Who love in rank above you

For Josephine I fall

Ah stay your hand I love you

Ah stay your hand she loves you

Loves me

Loves you

Yes yes ah yes she loves you

Oh joy oh rapture unforeseen

For now the sky is all serene

The god of day the orb of love

Has hung his ensign high above

The sky is all ablaze

With wooing words and loving song

We'll chase the lagging hours along

And if we find the maiden coy

We'll murmur forth decorous joy

In dreamy roundelays

He thinks he's won his Josephine

But though the sky is now serene

A frowning thunderbolt above

May end their ill-assorted love

Which now is all ablaze

Our captain ere the day is gone

Will be extremely down upon

The wicked men who art employ

To make his Josephine less coy

In many various ways

Oh joy oh rapture unforseen

For now the sky is all serene

The god of day the orb of love

Has hung his ensign high above

The sky is all ablaze

Is all ablaze

Is all ablaze

The sky is

All is all ablaze

This very night

With bated breath

And muffled oar

Without a light

As still as death

We'll steal ashore

A clergyman

Shall make us one

At half-past ten

And then we can

Return for none

Can part them then

This very night

With bated breath

And muffled oar

Without a light

As still as death

We'll steal ashore

A clergyman

Shall make us one

At half-past ten

And then we can

Return for none

Can part them then

Forbear nor carry out the scheme you've planned

She is a lady you a foremast hand

Remember she's your gallant captain's daughter

And you the meanest slave that crawls the water

Back vermin back

Nor mock us

Back vermin back

You shock us

Let's give three cheers for the sailor's bride

Who casts all thought of rank aside

Who gives up home and fortune too

For the honest love of a sailor true

Let's give three cheers for the sailor's bride

Who casts all thought of rank aside

Who gives up home and fortune too

For the honest love of a sailor true

For a British tar is a soaring soul

As free as a mountain bird

His energetic fist should be ready to resist

A dictatorial word

His eyes should flash with an in-born fire

His brow with scorn be wrung

He never should bow down to a domineering frown

Or the tang of a tyrant tongue

His nose should pant and his lip should curl

His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl

His bosom should heave and his heart should glow

And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow

His foot should stamp and his throat should growl

His hair should twirl and his face should scowl

His eyes should flash and his breast protrude

And this should be his customary attitude