'Cross the Ocean

off to the harbour, under drungeon in the morning

i've got a press gang looking after me.

i'll awaken sometime on the morrow.

by then we'll be a league away te sea.

full sails, bouncing on the briney

asway about they spreay&windy all the day

tellin' by the swells an adventure's in the making

that's if i don't die upon the way

i'm the boy they pressed aboard & took me out to sea

the captain is a tyrant & he tells what to do

but the firstmate is a cutthroat, with a muntineering ?

he plans to take the captain & feed him to the sharks

i'll never forget the trungeons & the harbour in the morning

and what the navy did to me & pressed me on the sea

still alive & i survived so many years later

as big a buccaneer as i could claim to be

full sails bounding on the briney

jolly rodgers flappin' score o' loaded '84's

many pretty treasures, lots of booty to be taken

the cannon and the cutlass on a rebel man o war.

i was the boy they trungeoned & they pressed me out to sea

but now i am the captain & i tell ye what te do

my firstmate is a cutthroat, a tarjack run askew

he has the skill to skin the king

and feed him to the crew

we are sailing from our homeland

cross the ocean, on the sea

for whatever reason be

we question all authority

[Repeat Last Chorus]