Under skull and bones to always be alone
A killer storm might break or do the gallows wait
To never see your home always you will roam
To die on some far shore worse than the lowest whore
Skull and crossed bones
On each port you call the lowest of them all
Get syphilis for sure with each one of these whores
Then out you go again till death becomes a friend
You rob and steal and maim until you get the same