The Herring Song Lyrics - Robin Williamson

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."