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