Though you see me now a mere ghost of a man I once had the heart of a lion Commanded my ship between many a shore The ol' Jolly Roger a-flyin
Mine was a name that struck fear into men And regret into plenty of lasses Oh, how I wish I could take back those days As I stare at these empty beer-glasses
I think of the times past when I had it all I toyed with men's wives and their daughters And in my pursuit of this ill-gotten wealth I stabbed and I slashed and I slaughtered.
And for what? The men that I've fought Are matched by the number of women I've bought And for what? I've killed and I've shot And reddened the cold tears of children with blood And If I could go back and make my amends I'd make all those mistakes again I'd kill every last one of those bastards, my friend
My ship was the last sight that many would see As we narrowed the gap with our quarry The sound of the cannons and splintering wood Would herald our paths into glory
We seized all the bounty and scuppered the ship Our hearts hadn't time for the wounded I took my share and the crew got the rest And on into port we then bounded
Life has many pleasures, and we had our fill Of food and of wenches and beer When we'd tired of the port or had drunken it dry The time to set sail would come near
And for what? We heeded no law Made other men suffer so we could have more And for what? We lived every day With the noose of the hangman a hair's breadth away And If I could go back and make my amends I'd make all those mistakes again I'd kill every last one of those bastards, my friend
Oh I have seen wonders you'd never have dreamed, And taken my fair share, I must say Holds full of booty I happily seized From crews who would not see a new day
Spanish gold came and went, gem stones got sold, But I knew more lay on the horizon, Yet the beer was too good and the gals were too sweet And now in my old age it's gone
These memories were bought with the lives of good men A price that I paid without scruple So many souls suffered so I could get drunk And swagger from brothel to brothel
And for what? It's been many years Yet the screams of the vanquished still ring in my ears And for what? I've blood on my hands I wait for my place in the halls of the damned And If I could go back and make my amends I'd make all those mistakes again I'd kill every last one of those bastards, my friend