At the End of a Rope (Facing the Gallows)

Port Royal, we drink to your name!
Alas, we’ll ne’er see, 'cuz were set to hang!
A Prize! A Prize! In tar and bound in chains!
A Prize! We’ll soon be, like Jack Rackam’s Cay…
Silver, jewels, and cocoa beans, Couldn’t
buy one of us from the King!
We are poor rogues, and so must be hanged,
Swingin' above the sea from which we came!
Our Poor Captain, slumped against the gun carriage,
and the crew, kenneled like hounds on the deck!
Struck by the topmast, and a hole in his neck,
we fired broadside, and cursed at the Atlantic!
Hotchpotch and Galleons, a sea rovers dream,
We’ll dance you to death, with 'yer guts tied to a beam!
Pirates we are, and pirates ya see,
Cutlass in hand, 52 damned and angry…
We’ll see you in Hell, oh Royal Navy!
With Roberts, Tew, and Blackbeard all waiting!
You’ll finish the job, while our bodies are swingin',
But you’ll see our face, in the gallows…
Port Royal, we drink to your name!
Alas, we’ll ne’er see, 'cuz were set to hang!
A Prize! A Prize! In tar and bound in chains!
A Prize! We’ll soon be, like Jack Rackam’s Cay…
Silver, jewels, and cocoa beans,
Couldn’t buy one of us from the King!
We are poor rogues, and so must be hanged,
Swingin' above the sea from which we came!