Richard Grenville: Towards the Cape of Fear In 1584 Seven ships have sailed so far To conquer distant shore Sent by Raleigh to explore A colony to build For queen and crown and fatherland A destiny fulfilled Philip Amadas: The port of Ferdinando A gateway to this land We'll make this our future And rule with iron hand The British: Rise, the course is clear-out Carried away by fortunate scud Burning their home and harvest All we brought them was silver and blood We bring them down, cast in the mud Their weak resistance nipped in the bud We're the crusaders We're bringing but silver and blood Richard Grenville: Seven ships we sailed Tiger at the van We did not think that it could fail Virginia's in our hand The Aquascogoc: White men came on seven ships With promises of peace Yet brought us but iniquity And their new disease Weroance Wingina: They claimed we stole their silver Of our own accord Set fire to our homestead And put us to the sword The Aquascogoc: Lies, cast in the mud Our resistance nipped in the bud Burning our home and harvest All they brought us was silver and blood They brought us down, cast in the mud Our remembrance lost in the flood Bright skinned invaders They brought us but silver and blood Ralph Lane: Winter came, supplies ran short We were waiting for support To deliver us from our fate Francis Drake would take us back Sailing home on his carrack Home again beyond both sea and strait Trim the sail, anchor aweigh New horizons on our way The Aquascogoc: They claim we stole their silver Of our own accord Set fire to our homestead And put us to the sword The British: Rise, the course is clear-out Carried away by fortunate scud Burning their home and harvest All we brought them was silver and blood We bring them down, cast in the mud Their weak resistance nipped in the bud We're the crusaders We're bringing but silver and blood The Aquascogoc: Lies, cast in the mud Our resistance nipped in the bud Burning our home and harvest All they brought us was silver and blood They brought us down, cast in the mud Our remembrance lost in the flood Bright skinned invaders Their payment for silver was blood