Abney Park

My arm's aching, back's breaking, legs aching neck
And this whole ruddy ship is a huge creaking wreck.
We've flown ten thousand miles with this thorn in our sides,
though the wind's steady strong with no clouds in the skies.
The ropes creaking, ship's leaking, sails are on fire,
and this whole bloody ship could go up like a pyre.
We've got smiles on our faces, but we've seen this before
No telling just now what we have in store.
The back-stabbing, loot-nabbing plans behind doors
Running low on the rum and they're bleeding our stores
Can't tell who's on our side and who's ready to flip
When we hit the next port the whole crew could jump ship.