The island of Tortuga is a haven fer our salty kind
Where sixteen 'undred harlots can help a mate unwind
And forty odd taverns can quench yer hevy thirst each night
All thanks to Henry Morgan, the man fer whom we fight
So join our band of brothers and be a lawless buckaneer
Or sail with king Charles' blessing, as a privateer
Then, come spend yer share of loot here, in our dark but friendly port
Don't be a greedy cheap-arse, yer life is far to short
So hold on to yer sabres, ye spaniards ye sailors
Yer heading fer Tortuga and the Brethren of the Coast
So hold on to yer pouches, to yer spouses and yer trousers
Or the whores of Henry Morgan will lure ye from yer post
Its a place to make a fortune, on expence of those less fortunate
A place to loose yer savings, in a single bet
A place for new beginnings, a place of filth n' self-made men
A place for early endings, at best friends cutlass' end
I said the island of tortuga, is a haven fer our salty kind
Where sins few every pleasure, are eas'ly to be found
Pick the poison of yer liking, and let all other worries be
Tomorrow well go fighting, the Limeys on the sea
So hold on to yer sabres, ye spaniards ye sailors
Cause you heading fer Tortuga and the Brethren of the Coast
So hold on to yer purses, to yer boots and yer curses
Or the whores of Henry Morgan will lure ye from yer post
♪
Or the whores of Henry Morgan will drag ye from yet post!