| The privateer is watching, the moon provides the only light
|
| Roaring winds are blowing, a flag appears out of the night
|
| Guns are spitting fire, the cannonball tears up the rail
|
| The vessel’s changing course, the thunderstorm blows up the sail
|
| A furious fight is raging, red-hot cannon’s shooting hard
|
| Ironballs are flying, tearing all the planks apart
|
| His allseeing spy-glass is aiming at the sea
|
| No mariner has the slightest chance to flee
|
| His crystal ball’s revealing where he has to steer
|
| He fights the covered evil without a fear
|
| Oh, the privateer
|
| The sea-dog's realmed in legends, it said he had the second sight
|
| His assignment must be holy, he fought the fight with power and pride
|
| The key to ancient wisdom, the power to have seen the truth
|
| He’ll return to holy ground, where his tortured soul had died in youth
|
| His allseeing spy-glass is aiming at the sea
|
| No mariner has the slightest chance to flee
|
| His crystal ball’s revealing where he has to steer
|
| He fights the covered evil without a fear
|
| Oh, the privateer
|
| His allseeing spy-glass is aiming at the sea
|
| No mariner has the slightest chance to flee
|
| His crystal ball’s revealing where he has to steer
|
| He fights the covered evil without a fear
|
| Oh, the privateer |