The Medusa sails to Senegal in 1816 First we lost the cabin boy, A bad omen for us all We had to swing the lead, There were shallows all around With a sickening break we to to Prayer, The Medusa's run aground We're rolling on the craft, We're sailing in the sun There is a hundred and fifty on The raft Just lost another one You can't deny we're all at sea Adrift and alone Vive la Roi We'll sail this raft Take all good company Yet seventeen remain behind to Die in agony We mutiny on the wine and fear As bad as knife and teeth Fifty died on the raft Seven around me A wondrous sight all bright and White A butterfly sent by God Shall we follow it down To swallow it down, I'll haul For us Pray to the almighty Or cast yourself to the sea As the brig, the Argus Comes close but doesn't see And in my arms my own true flesh, Died so quietly Give praise to the butterfly, or The almighty And in my mouth my own true Flesh Tested sweet to me, give praise to The butterfly And the Argus finally