Our good captain's pride
Was the portrait of his Bride.
He kept it in a very special place.
He'd say, "When I've had enough
And I feel like giving up,
I pull it out and look into her face.
And it's not 'cause of love
And it's not 'cause she's my dove.
It reminds me of why I'm out at sea
And when I feel like quitting
I remember all her spitting
And her cussing and her hurling knives at me."
Chorus:
Well the rations are thin
And the ropes tear at our skin
And the Spanish they will try and take me life,
But I won't go home.
'Cross the seas I will roam.
It's better than living with me wife.
We'd returned from a trip
Set to unload the ship
When a rope slipped away from its place.
But poor old Mickey Goff,
It tore his leg right off
And sent him straight down on his face.
We were about to cut free
And to sail out to sea.
Mickey hopped up with a scowl upon his face.
He said "I'm going with you.
I'm not staying with that shrew.
Now 'fore she comes lets get out of this place."
Chorus
I saw Benji McGee
As he washed out to sea
When a wave swept him over the deck.
Our sailors were tough,
But the storm proved too rough.
If we turned her around she would wreck.
And as the sea pulled him down,
But before he could drown,
I heard him yell with his last breath,
"Tell that harpy at home
I am free from her scorn!
I finally find peace in my d**h!"
Chorus
Well the rations are thin
And the ropes tear at our skin
And a falling mast could rip you in half.
You could get keelhauled
Or catch a cannonball,
But at least I'm not home with me...
Wife.