The mate was fixed by the bosun's pike The bosun brained with a marlinspike And cookey's throat was marked belike It had been gripped by fingers ten; And there they lay, all good dead men Like break o'day in a boozing ken The skipper lay with his nob in gore Where the scullion's axe his cheek had shore And the scullion he was stabbed times four And there they lay, and the soggy skies Dripped down in up-staring eyes In murk sunset and foul sunrise
Fifteen men on a dead man's chest Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
Twas a cutlass swipe or an ounce of lead Or a yawing hole in a battered head And the scuppers' glut with a rotting red And there they lay, aye, damn my eyes Looking up at paradise All souls bound just contrawise There was chest on chest of Spanish gold With a ton of plate in the middle hold And the cabins riot of stuff untold, And they lay there that took the plum With sightless glare and their lips struck dumb While we shared all by the rule of thumb,
Fifteen men on a dead man's chest Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
'Twas a flimsy shift on a bunker cot With a dirk slit sheer through the bosom spot And the lace stiff dry in a purplish blot Oh was she wench or some shudderin' maid That dared the knife and took the blade By God! she had stuff for a plucky jade We wrapped 'em all in a mains'l tight With twice ten turns of a hawser's bight And we heaved 'em over and out of sight, With a Yo-Heave-Ho! and a fare-you-well And a sudden plunge in the sullen swell Ten fathoms deep on the road to hell,
Fifteen men on a dead man's chest Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.