The Dubliners - Smith of Bristol lyrics

Smith was a Bristol man and a rare old sort was he With his cutla** and his pistols, heave-ya ho He'd a noble crew of cut-throats who used to scour the sea A plunderin' and a robbin', high and low He swore 'twas no concern', he didn't give a herrin' Bout right or wrong or any holy show He swore that grabbin' booty was Britain's foremost duty Wherever she could get it, heave-ya ho Chorus: Heave-ya ho, Heave-ya ho, He swore that grabbin' booty was Britain's foremost duty Wherever she could get it, heave-ya ho Smith had a noble soul and lofty was his pride With his cutla** and his pistols, heave-ya ho He'd watch his beaten foe-men jump out into the tide Call ye beggars who had no where else to go And hanging from his lanyards swung Portuguese and Spaniards And beaten Frenchmen jumping to and fro Right along the blazin' glory, shall illumine in England's glory Pirate Smith of Bristol, heave-ya ho Chorus But accidents they happen even to heroes such as he With his cutla** and his pistols, heave-ya ho He was standing on his capstan as happy as could be Hoping soon to have another prize in tow When a whistling Spanish bullet came and caught him in his gullet And very sad to say it laid him low He was only ninety-seven, but his soul has gone to heaven To rest on Nelson's bosom, heave-ya ho Chorus Chorus