Airship Pirates

You may remember I talked about Abney Park a few Music Mondays ago. This song of theirs is a bit different than I Am Stretched On Your Grave. See, this one is a little more ... robust. It's about a group of pirates who sail the skies in their airship. It's called, surprisingly enough, Airship Pirates. I think my two favorite parts of the song is the helicopter propellers introducing the song, and the violin's scrawls throughout. It's good if you're trying to distract your mind from, say, the 100 sit-ups you're attempting to do. But it's also good in its own right, so I'll leave you to enjoy.

Airship Pirates by Abney Park

Our fires high and the airbags tight
Food's low but the skies are bright
Props spinning all through the night
We're low on cash but seen another target

Goggles down and the cannons up
My blood starts pumping as I drain my cup
I give the wheel a spin and I turn this girl around
We're way above ground but we're closed in on our target

Flying Jib is filled with air
East India ships filled with despair
We even up, her broadsides bare
Our cannons flair but it’s just a show of muscle

Steady on, she doesn’t need to burn
She tries to flee and she tries to turn
Grappling fire, we latch her hull
She’s starting to roll, but we’ve got her on a leash

With a crew of drunken pilots
We’re the only airship pirates
We’re full of hot air and we’re starting to rise
We’re the terror of the skies, but a danger to ourselves now

Expendable crew starts to reel her in
Our swords are sharpened and we're ready to sin
I’m three miles up, we're about to swing aboard
My tether's made of leather so I’m not about to fall here

A swish of air and my boots hit deck
No cash, no fuel, no not a speck
Our grape shots made this bird a wreck
And a glance below deck shows a crew of nuns and orphans

With a crew of drunken pilots
We’re the only airship pirates
We’re full of hot air and we’re starting to rise
We’re the terror of the skies, but a danger to ourselves