Fifteen men of the whole ship's list. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! Dead and be damned and the rest gone whist! Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! 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, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
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. 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, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Arrggggggggggggggggg me maties! Thar be shure to be gold in dem ships I seen on the witches brow of the evenin'! Let us talk all we can, and give nothin' back!
“Coming of age in a fascist police state will not be a barrel of fun for anybody, much less for people like me, who are not inclined to suffer Nazis gladly and feel only contempt for the cowardly flag-suckers who would gladly give up their outdated freedom to live for the mess of pottage they have been conned into believing will be freedom from fear.”