The moorings creak,
The gales roll by;
I'm Davy Jones,
I cannot die.

The waves beat down,
The crew is gone;
My heart beats on,
My heart beats on.

Holes in the sails
Are stories told,
Of battles lost,
And wounds grown cold.

Bound to the helm,
I'm cursed to roam;
The sea is home,
The sea is home.