|
off to the harbour under trungeon in the morning i've got a press gang lookin' after me. i'll awaken sometime on the morrow. by then we'll be a league away te sea. full sails bouncing on the briney asway about the spreay & windy all the day tellin' by the swells an adventure's in the making that's if we don't die upon the way i'm the boy they pressed aboard & took me out to sea the captain is a tyrant & he tells what to do but the firstmate is a cutthroat with a mutineering smile he plans to take the captain & feed him to the sharks i'll never forget the press gang and trungeons in the morning what the navy did to me & pressed me on the sea still alive & i survived so many years later as big a buccaneer as i could claim to be full sails bounding on the briney jolly rodgers flappin' with a score o' loaded '84's many pretty treasures lots of booty to be taken the cannon and the cutlass on a rebel man o war. i was the boy they trungeoned & they pressed me out to sea and now i'm the captain & i tell ye what te do and my firstmate is a cutthroat a tarjack run askew he has the skill to skin the king and feed him to the crew we are sailing from our homeland cross the ocean, on the sea for whatever reason be we question all authority |
