Cap'n Paul Jones was a Britisher born, he hailed from the Solway shore,
But he struck a snag with his folks at home, as many have done before;
He shook the old land's dust from his feet, and he gave her a piece of his mind,
But he never knew that he'd somehow left a bit of his heart behind.

Cap'n Paul Jones was a skipper of fame, and a darned good sailorman too,
And a bit of a bucko, as I've heard tell, in the way he handled his crew:
He learned 'em to drill and he learned 'em to shoot and to jump at the word o' command,
The same as he knew how they learned 'em to do in the ships of his native land.

Cap'n Paul Jones was a Britisher born, though he changed his flag and his name,
In his
Ranger
frigate he led us a dance, but we honour him all the same;
We used to call him a pirate then, and he certainly wasn't our friend,
But he sailed and he fought as a Britisher ought, which is what matters most in the end.

Cap'n Paul Jones was a Britisher born, which is why, now the time is come,
He knows the tug of the Solway tide, and the rattle of Drake's old drum;
He is back to the sea in the old, old way, a sailorman smart and bold,
And the flag o' the
Ranger
is flying to-day by the flag that she fought of old.