My Bonny Lass
With the winds a-whipping, wailing like a scorned forgotten bride,
my ship I am equipping, sailing unadorned in perilous lowly tide.
I'll brawl, en masse, all the seadogs and whores,
and I'll crawl through the coral and sprawl on the shores,
and I'd fall down a crevasse no man could explore
all to see my bonny lass once again
from the Sargasso Sea to the Barbary Coast,
it's not doubloons nor monsoons that matter the most,
neither blade nor blockade nor a privateer's ghost,
shall keep me from her once again
I’ll set a steadfast course which no one can deter,
for the gleam in her eyes and the stars in the skies all lead me back to her.
