For seven years our corsair sailed the seas,

And our banner hasn’t lost its colors.

We’ve learned to fix the clipper sails in storm or breeze,

And plug with our bodies cracks and holes.

We’ve met a squadron, and it’s firmly chasing us.

The sea is calm, the wind is intervening.

But our captain said to us without fuss,

“It isn’t evening yet, it isn’t evening!”

The flagship frigate took in sails and made a turn,

Her starboard portholes started spitting fire.

We’re gunning back, and our balls have smashed her stern!

We hear shrieks of anguish, loud and dire!

We’ve been through worse, and our fortune is still in;

But there is no wind, and holds are leaking.

Yet our captain shouts above the hellish din,

“It isn’t evening yet, it isn’t evening!”

Through mighty telescopes a hundred glaring eyes

Spy how we endure these deadly rallies;

But no one will ever view us in the guise

Of slaves chained up to oars in navy galleys!

They outnumber us, soon our ship may sink.

Save our souls! Make the chances even!

But our captain doesn’t ever even blink!

“It isn’t evening yet, it isn’t evening!”

He who is merry, who is brave, who isn’t heel,

Prepare your blades and handguns for infighting!

We’ll let the rats take leave — it isn’t a big deal,

They’re but a hindrance in the mortal fighting!

The rats were praying doing jumping overboard,

“God rescue us from bullets, balls and skinning!”

While we were nearing the frigate board by board —

It isn’t evening yet, it isn’t evening!

Knife knifing knife, face facing face, eye eyeing eye!

Lest we be cut with crabs or lobsters’ nippers,

Some in a rage, some in a fury, some in cry,

We were departing our sinking clipper.

But our ship won’t go down in the end —

The sea will keep her, she’ll prevent her sinking.

Because the sea is our ever-loyal friend,

And it’s quite so that it isn’t evening!

Because the sea is our ever-loyal friend,

And it’s quite so that it isn’t evening!