Oh, the year was 1778
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
A letter of marque come from the king
To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen
God damn them all!
I was told we’d cruise the seas for American gold
We’d fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I’m a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett’s privateers
Oh, Elcid Barrett cried the town…
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
Would make for him the Antelope’s crew
The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight
She’d a list to the port and and her sails in rags
And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags
On the King’s birthday we put to sea
We were 91 days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way
On the 96th day we sailed again
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four pounders we made to fight
The Yankee lay low down with gold
She was broad and fat and loose in stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days
Then at length we stood two cables away
Our cracked four pounders made an awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in
The Antelope shook and pitched on her side
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the main truck carried off both me legs
So here I lay in my 23rd year
It’s been 6 years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday