A Pirate's Life
Canvas snapping in a southeastern wind,
Sun above and salt spray on me chin.
We make for Jamaica, our next port of call,
Montego Bay, so that we bypass the squall.
Aye, we be men of the sea, and secrets she keeps,
Pirates they call us, tisí only treasure we seek.
The smell of the brine and the air tastes of salt,
When a ship comes in sight, we force them to halt.
If after a bloody battle, the ship is left for scrap,
All is commandeered from a well-executed attack.
We tie all captains to the mast, as their ships sank,
The mates that wonít join us will all walk the plank.
Provisions and guns, our means and our way,
Hire on those who will come and hostages stay.
The rest tossed over, or left to drift a float,
We take their cargo and command of their boat.
Tisí not an easy life for the weak of heart,
For, blood will be shed and thatís just the start.
We must enter the harbor, under pretense,
Or, the fort will blast us, and make us rise to defense.
Land ho, comes the call, we be getting ready to go,
Ready to lower the main sail, let the wind blow.
Ready the anchor, and run up the false flag,
Get with it you land lubbers, no time to lag.
Ready the guns, in case we be made,
We are to appear like a ship come to trade.
A shiver me timbers, take down the topsail,
Move it you limeys, or itís over the rails.
We entered the harbor, without a shot fired;
Here we may find more men to be hired.
Lower the gangplank, we meet at the tavern,
There we make our plans to hide guns in a cavern.
Tisí a pirateís life, short sometimes it may be,
But we call it easy profit for men that are free.
No allegiance to anyone, the sea be our mate,
Do as we please, until we meets our fate.