Here's a toast to high adventure
And I'll raise my glass to slaves indentured
Who work their lives away for another!,
While I freely roam from one place to the other.
Not for me a wife and child who at home wait
While I toil away and hope to see the pearly gates,
No, a harlot's fiery kisses and a world to devour!
And sails in the wind before my final hour.
But who has the right of it?, I sometimes wonder.
While I sit on golden plunder my bones are often weary,
And the gold, it runs like water,
While you sit beside the fire and hold your precious daughter.
Your treasure lasts forever; it doesn't fade with time
And your life is oh!, so peaceful, not at all like mine.
By thunder, the wind is up, and the tide is coming in ...
All hands, prepare to make sail!
We'll go where we've never been!
Germanicus