Devil’s Children

Music and lyrics by Craig Nybo

I was there at O’Dougals, I leant on the bar.
The barkeep was burley, a man with a scar.
I asked for a cognac, he slammed it on down.
Then I noticed beside me a man with a frown.

I asked for his name and he gave me a glance.
He was a ragbag old piker from his head to his pants.
He wore a long shank and a flint-locker too.
I had met me a pirate, what a fine how-de-do.

I bought him a drink and I asked for a tale.
With a bend of his elbow he slugged down his ale.
He fixed him a grin and he leaned on the bar.
He said don’t be a pirate, you’ll never go far.

He’d captained a ship and he’d looted a few.
He’d pillaged the Ivory Coast through and through.
He’d squandered his booty and scuttled his ship.
He raised his one finger and he gave me a tip.

I’ve seen the devil’s children, I’ve been the world round,
From the Barbary Coast to the American main.
I’ve crossed cutlass with Ares and drank with Sir Drake.
But I’m giving it up with a heart full of shame.

The barman refilled us and we talked for a while.
He had a head full of tricks and a heart full of guile.
He told me of silver and pieces of eight.
Of his swashbuckling, wily eyed, death-loving mates.

He told me of women in every port
Of torture and torment and pain of all sorts.
We talked about whisky and tipple and grog.
Fair weather and storms and the lightning and fog.

He told me his fortune had sunk with the ship.
He told me his mates had made their last trip,
To the locker of Davy Jones down in the deep.
Then he turned his head down and he started to weep.

I put down a shilling and paid for his drink.
He stood up like a soldier and finished his drink.
He gave me a wink and he gave me a smile.
He turned on his heel and he walked out in style.

(Chorus x3)

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