Take the wheel I hear the timbers creaking Take the wheel I think this ship is sinking Jamaica seems so far and I've been thinking Old Billy Bones has gone to sea and quit his dockside drinking
Check it out, check it out, check it out
And when I'm dead who'll fly the White Bird home I'm not the ancient mariner your children know And the sea's the field these old jack tars have sown 'Cause Billy Bones just wants to know who'll fly the White Bird home
Oh your majesty, your majesty I heard the bosun cry Old Billy Bones has washed ashore Upon a foreign tide
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