Ready for starboard, to the mast, raise the dark flag and bid,
Riches and death need not be stained as it sweeps over the wave;
Empty hand the deck, our guns be in raise; the scimitar bared;
Sharpen swords and cannons be tilted ready, roll the balls to me,
Save the treasure, the sinister of my duties; to guard the key;
Never be lowered, the black flag we hold dear;
If the sea be denied us, we’ll just cut through the air;
Unshared will we leave our victory’s fiend,
Diana’s cool summers, the smell of the rose;
I claim not a portion, but I’ll ask what is mine
‘Tis time to toast to a victory, a cup of red wine.
Some fight ‘tis for riches, some fight ‘tis for fame;
The first I despise, and the last is a name.
I fight ‘tis for love, I long to see flow,
To the stroke of my sword, the limb of my foe;
I strike for the memory of long gone years;
I only shed blood whilst the other shed tears,
I come, as the lightning comes swift from above,
Over the face that I loathe, to the battle; aid my love.
Pray I may be cut at the back, but oh before I go…
Keep your fifteen men and your dead man’s chest;
While we drink up me ‘earties yoho…
Message in a Bottle
Empty hand the deck, our guns be in raise; the scimitar bared;
Sharpen swords and cannons be tilted ready, roll the balls to me,
Save the treasure, the sinister of my duties; to guard the key;
Never be lowered, the black flag we hold dear;
If the sea be denied us, we’ll just cut through the air;
Unshared will we leave our victory’s fiend,
Diana’s cool summers, the smell of the rose;
I claim not a portion, but I’ll ask what is mine
‘Tis time to toast to a victory, a cup of red wine.
Some fight ‘tis for riches, some fight ‘tis for fame;
The first I despise, and the last is a name.
I fight ‘tis for love, I long to see flow,
To the stroke of my sword, the limb of my foe;
I strike for the memory of long gone years;
I only shed blood whilst the other shed tears,
I come, as the lightning comes swift from above,
Over the face that I loathe, to the battle; aid my love.
Pray I may be cut at the back, but oh before I go…
Keep your fifteen men and your dead man’s chest;
While we drink up me ‘earties yoho…
Message in a Bottle
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