pirate song

though you see me now a mere ghost of a man, i once had the heart of a lion, commanded my ship between many a shore, the ol' jolly roger a-flyin, mine was a name that struck fear into men, and regret into plenty of lasses, oh, how i wish i could take back those days, as i stare at these empty beer-glasses, i think of the times past when i had it all, i toyed with men's wives and their daughters, and in my pursuit of this ill-gotten wealth, i stabbed and i slashed and i slaughtered. and for what?, the men that i've fought, are matched by the number of women i've bought, and for what?, i've killed and i've shot, and reddened the cold tears of children with blood, and if i could go back and make my amends, i'd make all those mistakes again, i'd kill every last one of those bastards, my friend, my ship was the last sight that many would see, as we narrowed the gap with our quarry, the sound of the cannons and splintering wood, would herald our paths into glory, we seized all the bounty and scuppered the ship, our hearts hadn't time for the wounded, i took my share and the crew got the rest, and on into port we then bounded, life has many pleasures, and we had our fill, of food and of wenches and beer, when we'd tired of the port or had drunken it dry, the time to set sail would come near, and for what?, we heeded no law, made other men suffer so we could have more, and for what?, we lived every day, with the noose of the hangman a hair's breadth away, and if i could go back and make my amends, i'd make all those mistakes again, i'd kill every last one of those bastards, my friend, oh i have seen wonders you'd never have dreamed, and taken my fair share, i must say, holds full of booty i happily seized, from crews who would not see a new day, spanish gold came and went, gem stones got sold, but i knew more lay on the horizon, yet the beer was too good and the gals were too sweet, and now in my old age it's gone, these memories were bought with the lives of good men, a price that i paid without scruple, so many souls suffered so i could get drunk, and swagger from brothel to brothel, and for what?, it's been many years, yet the screams of the vanquished still ring in my ears, and for what?, i've blood on my hands, i wait for my place in the halls of the damned, and if i could go back and make my amends, i'd make all those mistakes again, i'd kill every last one of those bastards, my friend