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A new Song for the Glen - Its My Life [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
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A new Song for the Glen [Aug. 6th, 2008|07:46 pm]
newcutler
[Current Location |Smeg's Computer]
[Current Mood |mischievousmischievous]
[Current Music |Guess!]

A parody if you will:
Morgan's Privateers

Edits by Cutter Gryphon

Based on "Barret's Privateers" By Stan Rogers


Oh the year was twenty oh eight
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
A letter of marque came from the King
To the scummiest vessel I've ever seen
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.

Oh Jon Morgan cried the town,
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
For twenty brave men, all paislians, who
Would make for him the Lollipop's crew,
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.

The Lollipop sloop was a sickening sight.
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
She'd a list to port and her sails in rags,
And a cook in the scuppers with staggers and jags.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.

On the King's birthday we put to sea.
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
We were ninety-one days to Paisley Montego bay,
Pumping like madmen all the way.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.

On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again.
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
When a bloody great Mason Council hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.

The Mason Council lay low down with gold.
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
She was broad and fat and loose in stays,
But to catch her took the Lollipop two whole days
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.

Then at length we stood two cables away.
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
Our cracked four-pounders made an awful din,
But with one fat ball the Mason Council stove us in.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.

The Lollipop shook and pitched on her side.
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
Morgan was smashed off of too much gin,
And that made me wish for home again.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.

So here I stand in my twenty-fifth year.
I wish I was at RenFaire now!
It's been six years since we sailed away,
And I just made Paisley Glen yesterday.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for RenFaire gold
We'd fire all guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a drunken man on a Paisley Glen pier
The last of Morgan's privateers.


The real version:

Barrett's Privateers

By Stan Rogers


Oh the year was seventeen seventy eight
I wish I were in Sherbrooke now!
A letter of marque came from the King
To the scummiest vessel I've 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,
I wish I were in Sherbrooke now!
For twenty brave men, all fishermen, who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew,
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.

The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight.
She'd a list to port and her sails in rags,
And a cook in the scuppers with staggers and jags.

On the King's birthday we put to sea.
We were ninety-one days to Montego bay,
Pumping like madmen all the way.

On the ninety-sixth 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 maintruck carried off both me legs.

So here I lay in my twenty-third year.
It's been six years since we sailed away,
And I just made Halifax yesterday.


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