Come away with me lads to the fair shores of Prin
Whose pure beaches and women and kin know no sin!
It's just one quick sail through the tears and screamed prayers
Its hardly a trip, so aweigh you nay sayers!

Bo'sun's a liar he'll tell you no truths
Our wage on this ship is salt and old boots
The grog's all water; tack sore on our tooths
But we'll sail on this ship till we're old coots!

Its time my good sailors, Tuar now awaits us
Stay your griping good sirs, you know I just hates fuss
You'll be paid for your slog, in fine honey and mead
Trust me my boys, you need only follow my lead

Bo'sun's a liar he'll tell you no truths
Our wage on this ship is salt and old boots
The grog's all water; tack sore on our tooths
But we'll sail on this ship till we're old coots!

Now the hull is uncalked and sails are a tattered
But our casks are all full of all that has mattered
Lash yourselves to the mast for I'll get us right home
Have I ever steered wrong in good travel and roam

Bo'sun's a liar he'll tell you no truths
Our wage on this ship is salt and old boots
The grog's all water; tack sore on our tooths
But we'll sail on this ship till we're old coots!

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Chronos, in the year 791 AF.