It’s been four years, we are prowling on the main
Baptized to Jolly Roger in its water.
We shot some holes, no planks could patch again,
Though all who didn’t fight were given quarter.

But now it’s warships who are giving us a chase:
A raging bull that gets back at the drover.
And from our captain we hear nothing but a phrase:
It’s not yet over. It’s not yet over.

The first frigate bore up and made a turn to port,
Then powder fumes engulfed her like a cloud.
We fire back a volley in retort,
And some her crew have their luck run out.

We sat in quite a few traps being worse.
Albeit the wind is bad and getting slower.
But our captain tells to change the course.
It’s not yet over. It’s not yet over.

The naval officers with their scopes enjoy
Our agony like agitated hunters.
But they shall never see us toiling soil,
As convicts sold in chains to wealthy planters.

For many hours they charged at our back,
There must be something different to offer.
We have some grapeshot left to rake a deck!
It’s not yet over. It’s not yet over.

Who doesn’t yield, who didn’t lose his nerve -
There is a boarding party by the mizzen!
And all the rats may get what they deserve,
When once the water in the holds has risen.

We took a chance, we won’t release the clench
On odds to hang and odds to live in clover.
By now we closed on the frigate to point blank range.
It’s not yet over. It’s not yet over.

It’s face to face, it’s steel to steel, it’s eye to eye,
The sharks below are anxious for the fodder.
You take a cutlass, take an axe, you take a pry,
Or else our ship will take us underwater.

But no! They must not sink her in the end.
She’s got one more ally, our sturdy rover.
It is the ocean who’ll reach a helping hand...
The captain had been right: It was not over.