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Lyrics
(Verse 1)
We drop anchor late an' we charge up the street,
To the dark little alley where all sailors meet.
She drags ye indoors by the sleeve o’ yer coat,
Wi' a laugh like a crow an' the reek in her throat!
(Chorus)
So haul on the bowline an' pull for the strand,
To the foulest old hag in the whole bloody land!
She'll swallow yer grog an' she'll pocket yer pay,
That rotten old witch down in Bristol Bay!
(Verse 2)
She shoves ye right down on a filthy straw bed,
Wi' the rafters a-spinning all over yer head.
A slap an' a tumble, a groan in the dark—
An' she’s done wi' yer hide like a hungry old shark!
(Chorus)
So haul on the bowline an' pull for the strand,
To the foulest old hag in the whole bloody land!
She'll swallow yer grog an' she'll pocket yer pay,
That rotten old witch down in Bristol Bay!
(Verse 3)
Five minutes o' mayhem, a pinch an' a bite,
Then she kicks yer bare boots out into the night!
Ye're sore in the knees an' ye're light in the purse,
Wi' a itch in yer breeches that only gets worse!
(Chorus)
So haul on the bowline an' pull for the strand,
To the foulest old hag in the whole bloody land!
She'll swallow yer grog an' she'll pocket yer pay,
That rotten old witch down in Bristol Bay!
(Outro)
So pull up yer trousers an' stumble away,
Ye got what ye paid for in Bristol Bay!
Damn her! Damn us all!
Up anchor an' away!
Details
GeneratedSep 7, 2026
Duration2:06
LanguageEnglish
Style
19th-century maritime folk, acoustic concertina, raw tavern vocals, sea shanty, natural foot stomp rhythm, no drums
Credits
Prompt byWavyViper900
ModelAria v5.5
