The Perilous/Infobox

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 flare 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