U.S. Bombs

Two hundred loathsome cutthroats

Armed to the teeth

Hurling there grenades

As they get closer to the beach

We had cutlasses and blunderbusses

Off to get an island with the only money tree

Take it from the rich, bless the pirates

Jump the ship and torture them, the rich

A twenty-one gun salute and three loud cheers

Pirate rowed ashore for their fair bloody share

Town crowd shouted out, "Viva le roi"

Twenty more cannons, thirty-four muskets

Headed out for treasure in the bourbon islands

Plunder take was gold, diamonds, silks and porcelains

Madagascar, we're comin for your barrels of rum

A wooden leg, I stand on by ye gallows we hung