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 cage
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
