Leap o'er the waves, o'er the wave, o'er the waves.
Plough, plough, plough, plough thro' the sea,
For thou art all my pride,
My bonny white-wing'd bride;
Thy grace, thy bound, thy speed for me,
Thy grace, thy bound, thy speed for me,
Thy speed, thy speed for me, for me.
On, on, on with thy black flag floating high,
While forked lightnings rend the sky,
While forked lightnings, while lightnings,
Forked lightninngs,
While forked lightninngs rend the sky.

We buccaneers are always gay,
We laugh at rolling wave, at rolling wave;
We love the tempest's stave,
When shrill winds toss the feathery spray.
We love the tempest's stave,
When shrill winds toss the feathery spray.

There's magic, there's magic in the cannon's roar,
When trembling foes heave to,
And bring their teeth to view;
When ev'ry seem is red
And smokes with gore,
When ev'ry seem is red,
And smokes with gore.

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