Fires high and the airbags tight,

Foods low but the skies are bright

Props spinning all through the night,

We're low on cash but we've seen another target

Goggles down, and the cannons up

My blood starts pumping as I drain my cup

I give the wheel a spin and I turn this girl around,

We're way above ground but we're closing on our target!

Flying Jib is filled with air

East India ships filled with despair,

We even up, her broadsides bare

Our cannons flair but it's just a show of muscle

Steady on, she doesn't need to burn

She tries to flee, and she tries to turn

Grappling fire, we grab her hull

We're starting to roll, but we've got her on a leash!

Expendable crew starts to reel her in

Our swords are sharpened and we're ready to sin

I'm three miles up, we're about to swing aboard

My tethers made of leather so I'm not about to fall here

A swish of air and my boots hit deck

No cash, no fuel, no – not a speck!

Grape shots made this bird a wreck

And a glance below deck shows a crew of nuns and orphans!