Two Days Nearer Death

Verse 1
Well a press-ganged man am I, and I'm telling you no lie,
I pull and heave upon the ropes that reach toward the sky.
There’s thunder in the timbers and there's salt-spray in the air,
There’s a lousy gale that smells of hell and brine all in my hair.
Chorus
And it’s go, boys, go! They’ll time your every breath,
And every day you’re on this ship, you’re two days nearer death.
But you go!
Verse 2
I’ve worked among the rigging and I’ve breathed the freezing fog,
I’ve swallowed down the hardtack and I’ve choked upon the grog.
I’ve stood knee-deep in bilge-slop, got a crack across the head,
Been working rough and seen enough to wish that I were dead.
Chorus
And it’s go, boys, go! They’ll time your every breath,
And every day you’re on this ship, you’re two days nearer death.
But you go!
Verse 3
There’s bounty and there’s plunder, opportunities galore,
The young lads like the silver and they all come back for more.
But soon you’re knocking eighty and you look older than you should,
For every coin made on this voyage, you pay with flesh and blood.
Chorus
And it’s go, boys, go! They’ll time your every breath,
And every day you’re on this ship, you’re two days nearer death.
But you go!

Traditional folk shanty, group male harmonies, rhythmic wooden stomps, rustic maritime vibe