Oh, the (C)year was seventeen (G)seventy-(C)eight
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
A (C)letter of (G)marque
came (C)from the king
To the scummiest vessel I'd (G)ever (F)seen
Chorus (Repeat after each verse)
(G)God (C)damn them all, I was (F)told,
We'd (C)cruise the (F)seas for A(C)merican
(F)gold
We'd (G)fire no (C)guns, (G)shed no (F)tears
I'm a (C)broken (F)man on a (C)Halifax (F)pier
The last of Barrett's
(G)Priva(C)teers
Note: the first G-chord of the chorus is not used
in the Corries-Version
Oh, (C)Elcid Barrett (G)cried the (C)town
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
For (C)twenty brave (G)men,
all (C)fishermen, who
Would make for him the (G)Antelope's (F)crew
Oh, the (C)Antelope sloop was a (G)sickening (C)sight
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
She'd a (C)list
to the (G)port and her (C)sails in rags
And the cook in the scuppers with the (G)staggers and (F)jags
On the (C)King's birthday we (G)put to (C)sea
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
We were (C)ninety-one (G)days
to Mon(C)tego Bay
Pumping like madmen (G)all the (F)way
On the (C)ninety-sixth day we (G)sailed a(C)gain
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
When a (C)bloody great
(G)Yankee (C)hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders, we (G)made to (F)fight
The (C)Yankee lay low (G)down with (C)gold
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
She was (C)broad and (G)fat
and (C)loose in stays
But to catch her took the Antelope (G)two whole (F)days
Then at (C)length we stood two (G)cables a(C)way
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
Our (C)cracked four-(G)pounders
made an (C)awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank (G)stove us (F)in
The (C)Antelope shook and (G)pitched on her (C)side
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
(C)Barrett
was (G)smashed like a (C)bowl of eggs
And the main-truck carried off (G)both me (F)legs
So here I (C)lay in my (G)twenty-third (C)year
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
It's been (C)six years
(G)since we (C)sailed a-way
And I just made Halifax (G)yester(F)day
Chorus
Final Chorus (Corries’ Version):
God damn them all, I was (F)told,
We'd (C)cruise the (F)seas for
A(C)merican (F)gold
We'd (G)fire no (C)guns, (G)shed no (F)tears
Now I'm a (C)broken (F)man on a (C)Halifax (F)pier
(C)Sailed
the (F)seas for many a (C)long (F)year
You’ll (C)never find a (F)better man (C)far or (F)near
I’m the last
of Barrett's (G)Priva(C)teers