Shores of the Caribbean will never be safe again The Dutch, French and English unite Ready to kill for gain Hear the sound of the crashing sea Fear the smouldering canons Buccaneers are proud to lead attacks On the Spanish galleons Buccaneers, buccaneers The ocean we ride Buccaneers, buccaneers The sea is our home Look at our vessel Our reason to live On the verge of losing all Above the waves she stands tall Jolly Rogers with deathlike faces Grimacing in the wind They hit and run without a trace Tear the flag with the wicked grin Camaraderie a rare trait Cursing one another for extra bait Black markings, a sign of death Spitting on the grave of the last one left We are the ones that mastered the oceans We are the ones that rule the seas Never surrender and always fight on We are the ones that charge at dawn