Gather round, sit down me lads
and I´ll tell to you a tale
of when forty men were lost at sea
in the mother of a gale,
the story starts at Portsmouth docks
and it ends face in the sand
so listen in don´t miss a word...
our night out never went as planned.
´twas in a pub down by the harbour
and we was throwing down the grog
we was laughing we was singing
it seemed our brains was filled with fog,
the doors they burst wide open
the press gang took us one by one
with wooden clubs they set about us
our lives at sea had just begun.
I woke up in a hammock
seemed like me head was split in two
the screams of show a leg you scurvy ****
was the start of days I´d rue,
they taught us fast to reef the main
and how to navigate by stars
they taught us not to cross the line
if we did the “cat” would leave her scars.
Six months it was we´d been at sea
and no more a motley crew
we were hardened trained professionals
who could cope when bad winds blew,
but the weather it was changing
far worse than we had ever seen
the ship she took a hammering
from pounding seas upon the beam.
The storm was unrelenting
for three weeks without a pause
we were weary sick and frightened
we were lost and way off course,
the wind it blew in from the north
force nine or maybe ten
the sky was black inducing fear
amongst us broken men.
The Captain he was sick in bed
and looking fit to die
the surgeon said he´s coughing blood
as black as that there sky,
the mast was shattered in the storm
the sails were ripped apart
´twas only us six left aboard
from forty at the start.
Fresh water kegs had washed away
the rations they were soaked
we had not eaten for three days
our hope and will was broke,
our ship she floundered in the sea
a sea that boiled with rage
a sea that would take all our lives
and no one will be saved.
´twas Davy Jones that made a pact
with strong winds from the north
that not a soul would live to see
a brighter day shine forth,
the Captains dead the surgeon said
so now we´re only five
lets pray to God that he can help
us feeble few survive.
We looked at him with knowing eyes
with eyes so filled with fear
we´re dead already said the mate
that sky is drawing near,
the wind it hit with such a force
the timbers they all split
the deck it heaved and broke apart
and splintered into bits.
The storm screamed like a witch on fire
who´s being sent to hell
and we all knew we´d join her soon
none left the tale to tell,
a giant wave then hit me
and washed me out to sea
all went dark and icy cold
and I thought it was the end for me.
When I awoke face in the sand
I thought I must be dead
with nightmares of the past few weeks
running through my head,
so now you have your answer
to why I sit here by the wall
splicing ropes to earn a crust
but that my lads not all,
I´ll tell you this my trusty friends
and I´ll tell you this for free
never will this man, I promise you,
sail again the seven seas.