Port Royal

Hundred masts, thirty flags
An Island in the golf of Darien
Sandglas, bloody heart
Flying high above the scene.

Marooners with loaded guns
Are still waiting at the quay
A hungry fleet from underworld
'Freedom' is the law they pray.

'Black Strap', rum and Gin
Sexual freedom all the way
A rolling dice, an ace of hearts
One shall win and one's to pay.

Concord and freedom
No need for the holy writ
Rebellions, non-servile
Spitting on religious hypocrites.

Port Royal
A cry of freedom on the sea.

When the 'Oxford' hits the sea
Slave driver learns the moses law
There is no chance, they can't escape
They hunt them down and eat'em raw.

Gin Lane, New Providence
It all is now since a long time gone
But there are still descendants
Port Royal's spirit lives forever on.

Port Royal
A cry of freedom on the sea.