Oh the year was 1778
How I wish I was 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
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew
The Antelope sloop was a sickening site
She'd list to the port 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
Ninety-one days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way
On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again
When a great big 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 she stood two cables away
Our cracked four-pounders made 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
Now here I lay in my twenty-third year
It's been six years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday
