[Intro — soft creak, gentle fiddle] My father kept the Admiral Benbow. I was fourteen. I kept the watch. [Verse 1 — young voice, almost folk] The cook came aboard with one leg and a laugh and a parrot green and old, he taught me knots, he called me son, he talked of storms and gold — of all the crew, I loved him best, for the sea shone in his eye; they warned me of a one-legged man — but not that he'd be kind. [CHORUS — the pirates' world erupts, gang vocals] Fifteen men on the dead man's chest — ° yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! ° Drink and the devil had done for the rest — ° yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! ° [Verse 2 — tension, pulse tightens] One night I climbed in the apple barrel — one apple left in the dark — and a voice sat down against the staves and quietly tore my world apart: the warmth ran out of it, word by word, like tide from a broken hull — "them that die'll be the lucky ones" — ° and I held my breath, and heard it all. [Bridge — whispered, close] one boy — one barrel — one candle of dark — dead men don't bite, says he — ° dead men don't bite — ° but boys do listen. And boys remember. And the wind that night was me. [Final CHORUS — gang vocals, but the young voice sings OVER them, higher] Fifteen men on the dead man's chest — ° yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! ° (and over it, alone:) I sailed with the devil, I dined with the devil, and the devil called me son — yo-ho-ho... and a bottle of rum. ° [Outro — fiddle alone] Oxen and wain-ropes would not bring me back. ° But I still hear the parrot scream.
