Tuesday, September 19, 2006

A Pirate Chantey

Arrrrrr, an' when ye be t'inkin' o' the songs o' the Pirates mosta ye will start off wi' sum bilge goin' "yo ho ho an a bottle o' rum." Lubbers what be singin' that be too landlocked to be a realizin' that the song that they take fer the theme be over one hundred and fifty bloody years late fer the party!

The "Bottle o' rum" song was written by Robert Louis Stevenson, a fine writer an all that, but he was a scribblin away on Treasure Island in 1881. A full 150 years after the heyday of the Spanish Main. 'Twas in 1891 when another lubber, name o' Ellison scribbled more scurrilous twaddle for the amusement o' the lubber queen Victoria.

The forecastle (pronounced folksull ye bilge rat!) chantey is a song that was actually a favorite o' the fearsome Teach. The lubbers who feared him called him Blackbeard. The fearful swine what met him called him Captain. He larnt his trade o' freebootin' whilst in service to Queen Anne in her war wi' the Spaniard dogs. He revered his only acknowledged queen until the end of his murderin' days. His flagship "The Queen Anne's Revenge" was another small demonstration of his respeck.

Billy, get yer fiddle lad. Play us a wee bit o' the tune so's these lubbers can sing us sumthin ta make ol' Teach rest a bit easier today.

OVER THE HIllS AND FAR AWAY (a song of Queen Anne's War)

Hark now the drums beat up again
For all true sailing gentlemen
So let us list and sail I say
And go over the hills and far away

Cho: Over the hills, and o'er the main
To Flanders, Portugal and Spain
Queen Anne commands and we'll obey
And go over the hills and far away

There's twenty shillings on the drvm
For him that with us freely comes
'Tis volunteers shall win the day
Over the hills and far away

Come gentlemen that have a mind
To serve a queen that's good and kind
Come list and enter in to pay
And go over the hills and far away

And we shall live more happy lives
Free of squalling brats and wives
Who nag and vex us every day
So its over the hills and far away

Prentice Tom may well refuse
To wipe his angry master's shoes
For now he's free to run and play
Over the hills and far away

Never shall our colors strike
We'll fix them with a marlinspike
Lord Howe says that it's gold he'll pay
Over the hills and far away.


An' so me hearties, thus we be endin' the lesson. Carry yourselves proud an' saucy.
Today's a foyne day fer Piracy, an' the slappin' o' the odd Ninja.

5 Comments:

Blogger J. Goff said...

Yar, I be a-slippin' in me grog-swillin shanty singin! 8^D.

10:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

...cheers! I be postin' the tune on me own site, tho' I hoist under yer colors...

10:48 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

...more history, me matey!

10:51 AM  
Blogger pissed off patricia said...

Call me when we get to talking like a sailor, that's where my gifts are. :)

10:57 AM  
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