Cleaving pounding frothy waves Heading for the South A Three-Master manned with buccaneers Scourges of the New World Recognize no law Brotherhood of hardened privateers Jolly Roger fluttering Shameless and scornful 40 loaded heavy guns on deck Tortuga awaits them Wenches, rum and gold The captured frigate on its way back
Their last raid succesfull All holdings stuffed with loot The merchant vessel never stood a chance No quarter was given Pennon coloured red Stabbing, guttering as its code demands The portugese was scuttled Leftovers for the sharks Great Whites feeding wild on piracy After the wine and bloodfloads They sleep off their debauch Speeding on the flush of victory
Then all of a sudden breaking weather Puts an end to their prosperity Entering weeks of steerless, aimless floating In the calm and the merciless heat Rapidly provisions are decreasing No more fruit and vegetables to eat
Scorbutics
Ravaging, the terror of the scurvy Livid creatures begging for their god Intestinal haemorrhages, bones wasting away Corroding gristle, urinating blood Fatiguing insomnia, teeth and hair fall out The rancid stench of living human rot
Scorbutics
Raving in delirious desperation The last of the freebooters slowly dies Amongst the pus, the blood, the bones and bodies Seagulls swallowing dead gazing eyesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
