A Hardworking Crew

Through roaring storms our capt'n steer

But nowhere near a sheltering pier

When finally the skies are clear

Two Johnnies have disappeared

Aye, tis the struggle of privateers

Lazy swabbers sleep a lot,

the poop deck's full of spit and gut

The keel is loose, the skiff has rot

land, ho, unluckily not

Aye, they cannot even tie a knot

For we are outcasts of the sea,

Our fate, our fortune yet to be

Onward we sail, still lost but free

Our legacy, so shall be

And once we find a friendly port,

then, over be our worrywarts

with drums and strings we shall hold court

our tale it won't be short

But no one here a ship can sail,

the slightest gust a stormy gale

sends us reeling off our course, of course!

and things they get worse and worse

The navigator's in the stern

using charts she'll never learn

north and south she meets with spurn

claims she knows when it's time to turn

Aye, through brisk wind and a sun that burns

Bosun thinks himself a king

but always mislays everything.

He filches gold while fudgeling

then leaves the crew arguing

Aye, overboard he shall take the fling

A friendly port we cannot find

No compass, it was left behind

First mate's got gout, the lookout's blind

Our tale be one of a kind

For we are outcasts of the sea

Our fate, our fortune yet to be

Onward we sail, still lost but free

Our legacy, so shall be

But first we need to eat onboard,

and how are we to swill afford,

our quartermaster sold his sword

to pay for some rum in his gourd.

Such an arse of a cockalorum,

with complete lack of a decent decorum,

what a dumb little scum we should break off

his thumb and play ra-ta-tum on our drum!

Sailors live a filthy dream

though neat and clean would ill beseem

we're dirty but in high esteem

we're scoundrels, we're lousy and mean

Aye, no escaping from this bad dream!

Aye, now the redcoats are here it seems

Aye, show no mercy let's hear them scream!