All around old Cape Horn, ships of the line, ships of the morn,
some who wish they'd never been born, they are the ghosts of Cape Horn.
Fal deral da riddle de rum with a rim dim diddy and a rum dum dum.
Sailing away at the break of morn, they are the ghosts of Cape Horn.

See them all in sad repair, demons dance everywhere.
Southern gales, tattered sails and none to tell the tales.
Come all of you rustic old sea dogs who follow the great Southern Cross,
you who’re rounding the Horn in the eye of a storm,
when you lost her one day and you read all your letters from oceans away,
then you took them to the bottom of the sea.
All around old Cape Horn, ships of the line, ships of the morn,
those who wish they'd never been born, they are the ghosts of Cape Horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum with a rim dim diddy and a rum dum dum.
Sailing away at the break of morn, they are the ghosts of Cape Horn.

Come all you old sea dogs from Devon, Southampton, Penzance, and Kinsale,
you were caught by the chance of a sailor's last dance.
It was not meant to be and you read all your letters, cried ‘anchor aweigh’
then you took them to the bottom of the sea.
All around old Cape Horn, ships of the line, ships of the morn,
those who wish they'd never been born, they are the ghosts of Cape Horn.
Fal deral da riddle de rum with a rim dim diddy and a rum dum dum.
Sailing away at the break of morn, they are the ghosts of Cape Horn.