Oh, let’s go a sailing,
With windward, wily creep,
Oh let’s go a sailing,
While the watchmen talk or sleep.

Oh, let’s go a sailing
In oceans dark and sore,
Black flags we’ll be flailing,
Like those of pirate yore.

To the shore my men!
We will wade and charge,
To the shore my men,
Let each make his mark!

One mark for each tear,
Two marks for each ache,
Three for every fear,
And for each life we take!

Let our sabers clash!
Yes, clash, bark, then cheer!
Burn all, Burn! my men!
Brand all with fiery fear!

Triumphant we’ll sail on -
The watchmen will be dead,
With the Western shore foregone,
The Eastern will be bled.

Oh, let’s go a sailing,
The West by sea and shore,
When will we go assailing,
My men of boat and horde?