We’re sailin’ out in foggy, dewy weahter Pillagin’ the Westcoasts Singin’ out the „turalurao” But labouring on wicked, old sea Was always making us row Tired of the „turalurao”
Hunger and no capture From plague we’re no more raptured You didn’t really treat us well So much different stories But we came for gold and glories Now we will send you back to hell
You traitors, the captain’s dead, hail! So long live me Now I’m in charge so no wail! Way-hey We’ll riding on thunder The world’s gonna humble Under favour of the night we’ll sail The captain’s dead
Abandoned families Got only catching disease Now we’ve got nothing left to lose The soup is served with rat tag No lumber for wooden leg Fighting beside you it’s no use