The Dubliners - Smith of Bristol lyrics

Smith was a Bristol man and a
Rare old sort was he
With his cutlass and his pistols, heave ya ho
He'd a noble crew of cut-throats who
Used to scour the sea
A plunderin' and a robbin', high and low
He swore 'twas no concern'
He didn't give a herrin'
Bout right or wrong or any holy show
He swore that grabbin' booty
Was Britain's foremost duty
Wherever she could get it, heave ya ho

Heave ya ho, Heave ya ho
He swore that grabbin' booty
Was Britain's foremost duty
Wherever she could get it, heave ya ho

Smith had a noble soul and
Lofty was his pridе
With his cutlass and his pistols, heave ya ho
He'd watch his bеaten foe-men jump
Out into the tide
Call ye beggars who had no where else to go
And hanging from his lanyards
Swung Portuguese and Spaniards
And beaten Frenchmen jumping to and fro
Right along the blazin' story shall
Allure in England's glory
Pirate Smith of Bristol, heave ya ho

Heave ya ho, Heave ya ho
He swore that grabbin' booty
Was Britain's foremost duty
Wherever she could get it, heave ya ho

But accidents they happen even to
Heroes such as he
With his cutlass and his pistols, heave ya ho
He was standing on his capstan
As happy as could be
Hoping soon to have another prize in tow
When a whistling Spanish bullet
Came and caught him in his gullet
And very sad to say it laid him low
He was only ninety-seven
But his soul has gone to heaven
To rest on Nelson's bosom, heave ya ho
Heave ya ho, Heave ya ho
He was only ninety seven
But his soul has gone to Heaven
To rest in Nelson's bosom, heave ya ho

Heave ya ho, Heave ya ho
He swore that grabbin' booty
Was Britain's foremost duty
Wherever she could get it, heave ya ho