Summer to Their Sons

Summer To They Sons (alias BARRACUDA )
by Silvio Vinci --------------

Seventeen ninety-nine,
Black flag against the sky.
King’s men waiting on the shore—
We just wave and let them try.

No gold underneath the boards,
No silver for the crown.
Bales of ganja, stacked below—
Batten all the hatches down.

Roll, boys, roll with the tide,
Got that island green inside.
Let the kings count all their guns—
We bring summer to their sons.

Past the reef and through the squall,
No lantern, not a sound.
Heard the frigate fire her guns—
No one turned the ship around.

From the heat of Trinidad
To the cellars of Bordeaux.
Captain grinned: “Forget the cold—
We’ve got warmer winds below.”

Roll, boys, roll with the tide,
Got that island green inside.
Let the kings count all their guns—
We bring summer to their sons.

Roll, boys, roll with the tide,
Got that island green inside.
Let the kings count all their guns—
We bring summer to their sons.

Napoleon’s boys in blue
Had been marching through the rain.
Captain passed the green around—
No one spoke of war again.

Sergeant dropped his battle plans,
Drummer found a sweeter beat.
No one fired a single shot—

Roll, boys, roll with the tide,
Got that island green inside.
Let the kings count all their guns—
We bring summer to their sons.

Roll, boys, roll!
(Roll with the tide!)
Roll, boys, roll!
(Sunshine inside!)

Let the kings
Keep all their guns.
We bring summer—
Summer to their sons.

“Captain! What happened to the war?”

“They can’t recall what they were fighting for!”

Barracuda… back to sea.

No medals for this company!