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Mutiny on the Bounty.

The ship was called the Bounty, she was sturdy, trim, and tight. To gather fruit in Tahiti was the reason for the flight. With Captain Bligh to lead them, a man of iron will, The crew began to hunger as the air grew cold and chill. Across the rolling ocean, through the spray and salty foam, The sailors dreamed of island girls and never going home. For Bligh was very greedy with his water and his cheese, He’d lash a man for nothing while they sailed the seven seas. They reached the shores of paradise, where breadfruit trees were green, the finest land and water that the men had ever seen. But when the time arrived to leave and face the deep once more, The crew had left their weary hearts upon that sunny shore. Then Fletcher Christian snapped one day, he’d had enough of pride, He gathered up the mutineers to stand there by his side. "The ship is mine!" the rebel cried, with fire in his eye, They put the Captain in a boat and left him there to die. With eighteen men and little food, Bligh rowed across the blue, A feat of silver navigation that no other man could do. He made it back to England, while the rebels found their way, To Pitcairn’s lonely island where they’d hide and spend their days. They burned the ship to ashes so the world would never know, Where the ghosts of the Bounty had decided they would go. Now if you sail the Southern Cross and hear the ocean moan, Remember Fletcher Christian and the seeds that he had sown.