Oh, the (C)year was seventeen (G)seventy-(C)eight How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now A (C)letter of (G)marque came (C)from the king To the scummiest vessel I'd (G)ever (F)seen
Chorus (Repeat after each verse) (G)God (C)damn them all, I was (F)told, We'd (C)cruise the (F)seas for A(C)merican (F)gold We'd (G)fire no (C)guns, (G)shed no (F)tears I'm a (C)broken (F)man on a (C)Halifax (F)pier The last of Barrett's (G)Priva(C)teers
Note: the first G-chord of the chorus is not used in the Corries-Version
Oh, (C)Elcid Barrett (G)cried the (C)town How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now For (C)twenty brave (G)men, all (C)fishermen, who Would make for him the (G)Antelope's (F)crew
Oh, the (C)Antelope sloop was a (G)sickening (C)sight How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now She'd a (C)list to the (G)port and her (C)sails in rags And the cook in the scuppers with the (G)staggers and (F)jags
On the (C)King's birthday we (G)put to (C)sea How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now We were (C)ninety-one (G)days to Mon(C)tego Bay Pumping like madmen (G)all the (F)way
On the (C)ninety-sixth day we (G)sailed a(C)gain How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now When a (C)bloody great (G)Yankee (C)hove in sight With our cracked four-pounders, we (G)made to (F)fight
The (C)Yankee lay low (G)down with (C)gold How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now She was (C)broad and (G)fat and (C)loose in stays But to catch her took the Antelope (G)two whole (F)days
Then at (C)length we stood two (G)cables a(C)way How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now Our (C)cracked four-(G)pounders made an (C)awful din But with one fat ball the Yank (G)stove us (F)in
The (C)Antelope shook and (G)pitched on her (C)side How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now (C)Barrett was (G)smashed like a (C)bowl of eggs And the main-truck carried off (G)both me (F)legs
So here I (C)lay in my (G)twenty-third (C)year How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now It's been (C)six years (G)since we (C)sailed a-way And I just made Halifax (G)yester(F)day
Chorus Final Chorus (Corries’ Version): God damn them all, I was (F)told, We'd (C)cruise the (F)seas for A(C)merican (F)gold We'd (G)fire no (C)guns, (G)shed no (F)tears Now I'm a (C)broken (F)man on a (C)Halifax (F)pier (C)Sailed the (F)seas for many a (C)long (F)year You’ll (C)never find a (F)better man (C)far or (F)near I’m the last of Barrett's (G)Priva(C)teers