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Heading into the battle |
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against inferior foe. |
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Early morning's sea lies so silent and clear. |
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Let them feel a broadside |
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from our three decker of pride. |
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Let the enemy fleet shatter for the wind. |
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The man of the hour |
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in a challenging game, |
|
he rose the power |
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by his family name. |
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The man of the hour |
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in the lion's den, |
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wielding his power |
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while dooming his men. |
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With gun ports open |
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and without striking sail |
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he turned the ship around to chase the danes away. |
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The wind made the ship heel |
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causing panic aboard. |
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Cannons, men and cargo they all broke astray. |
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Lower decks were flooded, |
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chaos and agony. |
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The morning air was filled with an aria of cries. |
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Crewmen jumped the rail now |
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choosing ice before the fire. |
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Down from powder deck they saw the smoke arise. |
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Danes in confunsion |
|
surprisingly greet |
|
the self termination |
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of the swedish fleet. |
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Without firing a round |
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on the stronger foe |
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they're victory bound |
|
as "the crown" went below. |
