Take the wheel I hear the timbers creaking   Take the wheel I think this ship is sinking   Jamaica seems so far and I've been thinking   Old Billy Bones has gone to sea and quit his dockside drinking      Check it out, check it out, check it out      And when I'm dead who'll fly the White Bird home   I'm not the ancient mariner your children know   And the sea's the field these old jack tars have sown   `Cause Billy Bones just wants to know who'll fly the White Bird home      Oh your majesty, your majesty   I heard the bosun cry   Old Billy Bones has washed ashore   Upon a foreign tide