Take the wheel I hear the timbers creaking

Take the wheel I think this ship is sinking

Jamaica seems so far and I've been thinking

Old Billy Bones has gone to sea and quit his dockside drinking



Check it out, check it out, check it out



And when I'm dead who'll fly the White Bird home

I'm not the ancient mariner your children know

And the sea's the field these old jack tars have sown

`Cause Billy Bones just wants to know who'll fly the White Bird home



Oh your majesty, your majesty

I heard the bosun cry

Old Billy Bones has washed ashore

Upon a foreign tide