From "Victory Sings at Sea - The Curse of the Somers"

The Somers Curse (from The New York Times 1843)

Come listen all you sailors bold,
come listen unto me.
I'll sing you of a cruel deed.
a bloody tragedy.
Come listen landsmen one and all,
come listen unto me,
I'll make you bless your lucky stars
you've never gone to sea.

It was the Somers, graceful. swift.
as trim a little brig.
as e' er was modeled by shipwright
or sailor helped to rig.
The grating's rigged, the hangman's whip
dangles from main yardarm.
The wondering crew gaze on the sight
with terror and alarm.

CHORUS: (by T. Morgan. © 1995 Skookumchuck Music)
For the Captain called their names
and three good men were slain
No trial, no questions here,
only the horror, the grief and the fear.

Alas, the meaning's soon too clear,
the noose is round the neck
of three poor men, but men as brave
as walked the Somers deck.
On one side Small and Cromwell stand.
bold men and sailors true.
They quail not though the boldest might
with such a death in view.

Starboard young foolish Spencer stands.
the tears are in his eye.
What feelings of deep agony
must through his bosom fly.
Look, look your last, for hark, a gun
sends forth its smoky breath.
Whip instantly upon the word,
their eyes are sealed in death.

And sad and slow our mess mates dead,
we launched into the waves,
and watched them sink 'mid ocean's moans.
deep in their watery graves.
Strange sounds will float upon the air
and in the blast will speak.
and round the main yardarm three ghosts
will play and dance and shriek.

And ill luck and misfortune dire
will follow in thy wake
'til the ghastly three. where lie their bones.
thy last dark haven make.
Sheet home on every cursed spar.
set every rag of sail.
and leave here to the ocean ghouls
and demons of the gale.

Cheers, S. in Seattle