When the Alabama's keel was laid,
Roll, Alabama, Roll,
'Twas laid in the yard of Jonathan Laird,
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll.

'Twas laid in the yard of Jonathan Laird,
Roll, Alabama, roll.
'Twas laid in the town of Birkenhead,
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll.

From the Western Isles she sailed forth,
Roll, Alabama, Roll,
To destroy the commerce of the north,
Oh, Roll, Alabama, Roll.

Many a sailor lad he saw his doom,
Roll, Alabama, Roll
When the Kearsarge it hove into view,
Oh, Roll, Alabama, Roll.

Till a ball from the forward pivot that day,
Roll, Alabama, Roll,
Shot the Alabama's stern away,
Oh, Roll, Alabama, Roll.

Off the three-mile limit in sixty-five,
Roll, Alabama, Roll,
The Alabama went to her grave,
Oh, Roll, Alabama, Roll.