The Legend of Davy Jones - Mr. Hurley & Die Pulveraffen

Some say he steers a spectral ship

That’s ghostly, grey, and grand

He’s doomed to sail the seven seas

And never set foot on land

And if you chance to see him

You’ll soon be dead from fright

So sailors tell their children

On a dark and stormy night

Forty fathoms deep he walks

With rusty keys

His locker locks

Just he’s like he’s half asleep

He stalks

Forty fathoms deep

Forty fathoms deep he owns

Each sleeping sailor’s soggy bones

The legend they call Davy Jones

At forty fathoms deep

Nor east we sail to Brimstone head

The captian, crew, and I

At sixteen knots we fairly flew

Beneath a darkening sky

A top the main mast I rode

Near ten stories high

Went up there blew an icy quarrel

And overboard went I

Forty fathoms deep he walks

With rusty keys

His locker locks

Just he’s like he’s half asleep

He stalks

Forty fathoms deep

Forty fathoms deep he owns

Each sleeping sailor’s soggy bones

The legend they call Davy Jones

At forty fathoms deep

I hold my breath I say a prayer

For all thoes mates who died

I turn my back on Davy Jones

And cast my fears aside

Raise up my head

And kick my feet

And toward the light I go

The heartless jailer laft behind

The locker far below

Forty fathoms deep he walks

With rusty keys

His locker locks

Just he’s like he’s half asleep

He stalks

Forty fathoms deep

Forty fathoms deep he owns

Each sleeping sailor’s soggy bones

The legend they call Davy Jones

At forty fathoms deep

Forty fathoms deep he walks

With rusty keys

His locker locks

Just he’s like he’s half asleep

He stalks

Forty fathoms deep

Forty fathoms deep he owns

Each sleeping sailor’s soggy bones

The legend they call Davy Jones

At forty fathoms deep