Deadlights fastened, pouches empty Brace yourselves we're heading out Show a leg to the caulk stained sentry Wet the sails the boom's about
Set the course for Mayaguana A plate fleet's moving cross the straight Scudos coined in Old Milano Pedro's cog just took the bait
Chase is on in shallow waters Swivels glowing through the smoke 'Tis might be an even slaughter Took a volley through the oak
Bring a spring upon her cable Hunter now becomes the prey Broadsides roar with cannons able Hooks will take us to the fray
No quarter, no parley No pay without a prey Fresh water, fresh barley Fine rations to last the day No quarter, no parley Maynard's sizing up our chains Good sailors, dried gnarly End their days in a rusty cage
Scuppers laying low with silver None but dead men tell no tales Charon may their souls deliver As we cover up our trail
No more rest on easy booties Them old days be now long gone The hangman waits to do his duty Sail again by the rise of dawn
Fill them seams with tar soaked oakum Fish the mast to make her hold Tie and hoist the leadswing's scrotum Oh, hornswogglers don't grow old
Hogshead's full of sailors folly Salmagundi and sawbone's stew Crimp some knaves from the house of mollies At light of dawn head out anew
No quarter, no parley No pay without a prey Fresh water, fresh barley Fine rations to last the day No quarter, no parley Maynard's sizing up our chains Good sailors, dried gnarly End their days in a rusty cage
No quarter, no parley No pay without a prey Fresh water, fresh barley Fine rations to last the day No quarter, no parley Maynard's sizing up our chains Good sailors, dried gnarly End their days in a rusty cageTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
