Avast ye matie!

Avast ye matie! t'ere she goes
'tis a Spainard sailing 'er
Gold!, matie gold!
We'll o'ertake 'er
'n t' night 'n kill 'ny 'n our way 

t'n we'll to port, matie
'n wenches. Wenches!
Wenches 'll have ye if'n
ye 'ave gold 'n we will
We'll wench n' fill our gullets wit'grog! 

Avast ye matie! t'ere she goes
a Spainard gold ship 'n 'tis ours
Tis ours...
t'er blood be spilt
t'er booty ours 

To port matie! To port!
We'll wench and drink
til our booty be spent-- 

Duncan, I've told you before,
get off the coffee table and
give back the potato chips.