| A thunderous crash in the dead of the night
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| We ready our weapons, prepare for the fight
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| My band of comrades, so cruelly betrayed
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| Now face the cold edge of justice’s blade
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| They knew how to hit us, they knew where to look
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| Our fortress was breached and its mighty walls shook
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| Accused of this treason, I fled to the sea
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| To track down the true source of that treachery
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| Sold out, betrayed
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| Attacked, besieged
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| Outcast, accused
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| Honour, refused
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| Ride
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| The Black Spot in my hand
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| On a quest for the truth
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| I scour the land
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| This traitorous curr
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| Shall die by my hand
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| If I’m to be spared
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| I must have his head
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| I shall not rest 'til this traitor is dead
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| I called in all favours, I bartered and bribed
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| I must find this turncoat, and find him alive
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| And so I was taken to a little old inn
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| And deep in his cups, my man sat within
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| We bitterly battled, but I won the fight
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| And tied him beneath the high tide mark that night
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| And when I’d made sure he could no longer stand
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| I left him there with that Black Spot in his hand
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| Avenged, absolved
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| Justice, made right
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| Vengeance, deserved
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| Honour, preserved
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| As the lifeless corpse of my enemy floats in the bay,
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| choked on salty brine, I swear a deadly oath.
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| By Poseidon’s name, no traitor will go unpunished.
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| Hear these words and tremble,
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| for our vengeance shall be swift and merciless! |