(Cap D)
Drunken sailors always favor
to savor the flavor
of rum that they won
from the fruits of their labors
braver from their greater
tolerance for them vapors
Alcohol always falls
at the root of their Capers
what happens when they sawing log
in a haze or a fog
face first in their grog?
You gotta leave em with a mark cause they bein a wog!
How dare they call them selves a great sea dawg
p*** on their leg, pose em up on their peg
kick them off of their keg, crush their head like an egg
we don't tolerate debates cause your late
Yet in a sad sorry state supposed to man your post by 8
(Chorus)
What do we do with a drunken sailor
you know we got them drunken sailors
what we gonna do with them drunken sailors?
Earl ae in the mornin? (Wake em up yo)
(Admirality)
Eeeeeeearly in the morning is when sailors get to drinking
In the Royal British Navy where the whiskey does the thinking!
Make haste to the waste when them mugs begin a clinking
Yeah you pirates lack the bullocks for the bottles we be sinking
We're Steaming! The sun's up over the yardarm,
Dreaming of the better times when we're becalmed
When you don't know your name, and you smell like a farm
Time to pop another cork and do yourself some harm
You may see fit to complain but we can sail when we're tanked,
Getting the job done while you boys be collapsing like banks
p***** as rats but propped up in immaculate ranks
(Chorus)
(Sea Dawg)
a drunken sailor, is there any other kind?
where we come from the sober are very hard to find
why else are we inclined to be so unkind
we leave the daily grind behind and risk one eye goin' blind
our style is here, albeit a bit belated,
a fiery breeze in a field so saturated
yer sound can be drowned by the screams of others
If the scurvy crew knocks ye down
ye might never recover
so take cover
lest ye discover how
merciless we are
on the battlefield, the card table, or the bar
We don't give in, we never falter
not a man who serves with us will sniff the hempen halter
We'd rather die in battle instead,
my men get paid unless they're swingin the lead,
fight with me and you'll lose at least a leg,
sorry i meant yer head
Once I made a jury mast from the enemy's dead
Drunken sailors always favor
to savor the flavor
of rum that they won
from the fruits of their labors
braver from their greater
tolerance for them vapors
Alcohol always falls
at the root of their Capers
what happens when they sawing log
in a haze or a fog
face first in their grog?
You gotta leave em with a mark cause they bein a wog!
How dare they call them selves a great sea dawg
p*** on their leg, pose em up on their peg
kick them off of their keg, crush their head like an egg
we don't tolerate debates cause your late
Yet in a sad sorry state supposed to man your post by 8
(Chorus)
What do we do with a drunken sailor
you know we got them drunken sailors
what we gonna do with them drunken sailors?
Earl ae in the mornin? (Wake em up yo)
(Admirality)
Eeeeeeearly in the morning is when sailors get to drinking
In the Royal British Navy where the whiskey does the thinking!
Make haste to the waste when them mugs begin a clinking
Yeah you pirates lack the bullocks for the bottles we be sinking
We're Steaming! The sun's up over the yardarm,
Dreaming of the better times when we're becalmed
When you don't know your name, and you smell like a farm
Time to pop another cork and do yourself some harm
You may see fit to complain but we can sail when we're tanked,
Getting the job done while you boys be collapsing like banks
p***** as rats but propped up in immaculate ranks
(Chorus)
(Sea Dawg)
a drunken sailor, is there any other kind?
where we come from the sober are very hard to find
why else are we inclined to be so unkind
we leave the daily grind behind and risk one eye goin' blind
our style is here, albeit a bit belated,
a fiery breeze in a field so saturated
yer sound can be drowned by the screams of others
If the scurvy crew knocks ye down
ye might never recover
so take cover
lest ye discover how
merciless we are
on the battlefield, the card table, or the bar
We don't give in, we never falter
not a man who serves with us will sniff the hempen halter
We'd rather die in battle instead,
my men get paid unless they're swingin the lead,
fight with me and you'll lose at least a leg,
sorry i meant yer head
Once I made a jury mast from the enemy's dead