Argh me maties
We’re oot in the open sea
Singing a fuckin ditty
Aboot yon Captain Black an his scallywag of a pack

Ridin the waves like ya should a yon lassie
They do wha’ they please, they do wha’ they fancy
They rob ya blind
With one hand behind
An take the loot and evrethin loose
While singing aboot it on a flute
They laugh and sing, and stumble on the boot
An tarry forth for the next island loot

On an on the deys go by
Till their booze is up and their runnin dry
They set a cors for tha’ castle up yonder
An hope to god it is what they wonder

They land an scurry to the castle untested
Until they find themselves fuckin arrested
Those damn Brits wit’ere red and white hats
They shackled us up an casts us like rats

In the cell all present to be
Locked up tight for eternity
Wit nothing to show but scars and scurvy
Does anyone have some fuckin brandy!