Yes i did a song fic... ugh. Heck, i working on a freaking parody (shudder) so might as well jump on this bandwagon. I apologize but i had a cool idea. I kinda like it so I'm posting even just to prove that no, i am not dead. Suffering from writers block but not dead.

Anyways, enjoy.


For once, Jazz missed the familiar dull throb from the welds that extended across his back and chassis. The frame wracking pain that left him gasping for air, barely conscious and mechs scrambling for Ratchet had faded as had some of the scars but the throb had never gone away. A constant reminder of how close to termination he had come.

At least that pain had been easier to ignore and push through.

This, this hurt.

He didn't need to look behind him to know he was leaving an energon trail that a mech with his sensors tied behind his back could follow. And the four Decepticons behind him didn't have a problem keeping up with his damaged frame even in the darkness of a moonless light.

Even with his spark dampener at full power and using ever trick up his subspace, he couldn't lose them. He had lost too much energon and his frame was on fire from the gunshot wound to the tanks. Only dumb luck and the desire to stay on this side of the Well kept him moving to try and get close enough to Autobots for help to get to him in time.

Despite what others thought, he hated up front confrontations. In that case, call him a coward, but he would run until he could come back on his own time and finish the job. And he never left a job unfinished.

The mech in the lead suddenly transformed, making a desperate grab for his bumper and Jazz swerved at the last possible nano-klick, feeling claws scrape the paint off as he was nearly grabbed. The mech didn't transform back though but pulled a gun. Jazz swerved around a corner, a sharp gasp escaping him as he sideswipe the building and nearly blacked out at the pain. Gunfire peppered the building behind him.

"Pr-Prowler mech, where are ya…!" He panted into the comm, another pained snarl escaping him as something tore and fuel levels dropped again.

"Five klicks. Hang on Jazz, we're coming." Prowl responded, his usual firm, neutral voice tinged with a distinct edge of fear. "Hang on."

"Won't-" Jazz cut himself off as he took another hard corner, skidding sideways on his own energon before regaining traction and taking off down the narrower and narrower roads. A quick GPS confirmed that they were chasing him toward the docks. "-make it. Warehouses…. 'eardin' meh tah the warehouses. Chemical storage."

"You have to get out Jazz, if a fire fight breaks out there, there is enough hazardous material stored there to level a city block."

"Workin'… on it."

Swerving down another road, more of an alley, he realised too late that it was blocked by a commercial dumpster and construction scaffolding above it. His frame didn't respond in time and he caught the edge of the dumpster half transformed. The crash to the pavement left him barely able to move. The only good thing was that the Decepticon behind him had been too close to react. The dumpster slammed into him as the mech ran into it bumper first and caused the scaffolding to collapse. Packs of shingles toppled from the scaffolding and a dozen 75 pound bags slammed into the Decepticons below.

With a harsh curse, Jazz forced himself to transform fully and stagger to his peds, an arm wrapped around the still leaking wound. He'd snapped an axil and had to go on ped. Yells and cursing behind him forced him to move as fast as he could to keep the miniscule lead he had just been given.

"We're three blocks away, where are you." Prowl's voice cut through his thoughts again and he glanced behind him as he heard the dumpster get blown apart.

"Ya out… o' tahm." Jazz replied before breaking into a weak jog trying to find what he needed. "Don't… ya don't 'ave tahm."

"Jazz-"

"Sorry Ah wasn't 'round longer." Jazz continued, shoving open a warehouse door and staggering in. It took a klick too long to adjust to the darkness inside and he shook his helm, trying to get his vision to focus.

"Shut up. The Twins and I are here."

"So are tah Cons." Jazz said as he heard the four come racing up to the warehouse, engines snarling. "Sorry Prowler. Weh didn' 'ave much tahm tah catch up."

xxXXxx

Prowl gunned it, lights and siren screaming through the night as he pushed his engine to the limit. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker easily kept pace with him but he had high speed pursuit training and was slowly pulling ahead of the pair of sport cars as he swerved down alleys toward Jazz's distress signal.

"Ya out… o' tahm." Jazz rasped painfully. "Don't… ya don't 'ave tahm."

"Jazz-"

"Sorry Ah wasn't 'round longer."

"Shut up. The Twins and I are here." Prowl snarled, taking a corner so fast the twins missed it and were forced to take the next turn.

"So are tah Cons. Sorry Prowler. Weh didn' 'ave much tahm tah catch up." Jazz continued, his voice even weaker before the signal cut out entirely.

"Jazz!" Prowl yelled over the comm before the warehouse half a block away exploded. He swerved instinctively and when the shockwave slammed into him it set him rolling tires over roof. He landed on his side and transformed, ignoring blistered and scuffed paint to stare at the fire engulfed warehouse.

"Jazz!" He yelled as a moment later the Twins came to a screeching stop beside him.

"Prowl! What-! Holy Primus-!" Sideswipe sputtered as he transformed too soon and stumbled forward.

"I don't know where Jazz is, his distress signals dead." Prowl replied, flaring his doorwings as he took a few steps forward to try and find his friend. "Spread out! He probably set a diversion. He was badly damaged, he couldn't have gotten far." Prowl ordered and the Twins took off in opposite directions even as he took a few more steps forward. He could detect high levels of ammonium nitrate and the roaring heat of the fire was sending jagged sharp pain over his doorwings.

"Jazz!" He yelled again, refusing to admit the panic on his voice. It was too soon after they had gotten him back. Three short months since his friend had been in stasis and he'd hacked the USA power grid to divert enough power to jumpstart his brother in arms. He couldn't be gone, not after all they had gone through.

Taking a dangerous, near suicidal risk, he transformed and gunned it, racing toward the fire.

Golden yellow slammed into his flank hard enough to spin him completely around. Before he could react, clawed servos dug into his side and undercarriage, bodily flipping him over and tossing him away from the intense heat to land on his roof.

"Are you fraggin' glitched?!" Sunstreaker yelled, smoke rising from his frame as Prowl struggled to transform, his helm spinning from the double crash. "You can literally taste the chemical fumes in the air! I've played with that stuff before, it does a pit of a lot of damage to a mech! Jazz would never survive that heat, and neither would you!"

"What do you mean you've played with this stuff before." Prowl demanded, Enforcer coding locking onto key words even if it had nothing to do with Jazz.

"We have won Wheeljack's respect." Sunstreaker said with a casual shrug. Another explosion rocked the ground and Prowl stumbled, damaged systems refusing to calibrate quick enough to prevent it. Sunstreaker snarled at the fire but Prowl had seen the haunted look in the mech's optics before.

"He got away." He said firmly before hard blue optics shot back to Prowl. "He got away then. Prowl."

"I don't know." Prowl replied. "His signal is dead and he's not responding to comms, if he was-"

He cut himself off before he could say it but by the suddenly murderous look that flashed through Sunstreaker's optics, both knew what Prowl was going to say.

"He's not offline." Sunstreaker repeated. "Not this soon. Not after we just got him back."

Prowl didn't say anything other than to set his jaw. Jazz wasn't stupid. He was somewhere. He had to be.

xxXXxx

Prowl stood off to the side, watching with dark optics and low doorwings as fire crew continued cleaning up the area. Inferno glanced his way, saw him watching, and dropped his optics, the usually brash mech unusually calm.

"Prowl…"

The Praxian flicked a silver grey doorwing but didn't look up as Red Alert walked over, the lanky mech hesitating slightly before sighing and standing beside him, arms cross over his chassis.

"You didn't find him." Prowl said, watching the mixture of Autobot and human forces clean up the area from the blast.

"No." Red said after a moment before shooting a look at Prowl. "No we didn't. But there was a distinct trace of Cybertronian explosives as well as an energon trail leading into the warehouse."

"Decepticon." Prowl snapped with more bite then he intended. Red gave him another, darker, look before shaking his helm.

"No. It was Jazz. Ratchet did the analysis. Being in stasis for so long caused most of his systems to slow to the point of non-functional. By jumpstarting him back online, the energon still in his systems had changed slightly."

"You're wrong."

Red turned to fully face Prowl, ice blue optics flashing to an eerie white.

"Do you think I would tell you something like this is I was wrong." He said in a low voice that promised the encryption on Prowl's office door would be so tight it would have to be physically removed from the doorframe. "Jazz was in that warehouse. Whether he was still there when it exploded or not I can't tell. But he was there."

With a scowl he turned back toward the cleanup effort before a faint smirk pulled at his lip plates. "Glitch probably set the explosion."

Red Alert shot Prowl another look when he heard the mech grinding his jaw.

"Prowl, I never said he was offline." He said after a moment.

"He's not." Prowl replied flatly before turning away, limping slightly. "He's not."

Red Alert watching him leave before snarling low under his breath.

"Ya know those two are close." Inferno said from directly behind him. "This was hard on all of us, losing Jazz the first time but it was hardest on Prowl."

"I'm not denying that." Red said with a sigh, his processor already racing as he glanced back at the wreckage. "If we were still on Cybertron during the war, I'd have thought this was a suicide murder. We've seen in hundreds of times of Autobots, or Decepticons, taking their lives with as many of the opposite faction as possible. But that's not like Jazz. As hard as he is to predict, that's not his style."

"Well, ya know Jazz." Inferno said with a dangerous smirk. "He always comes back to finish the job."

"The last one he almost didn't." Red said firmly, glaring at Inferno and the big mech shrugged.

"It's Jazz." He said simply. "Anything's possible with that fragger."

xxXXxx

Prowl was still standing off to the side almost three hours later, quietly watching and mostly ignoring everyone that approached. He only acknowledge Optimus when the mech was directly beside him and pointedly refused to leave after fifteen minutes of being ignored.

"Most of us are returning to base." He said quietly after Prowl had flicked a doorwing at him. "You can remain here if you want-"

"There is no need for me here." Prowl cut in, refusing to look at his Prime. "I will return with you."

He started to move past the mech when a battle worn servo caught his arm. He froze at the contact and Optimus released him.

"If anyone finds anything, you'll be the first to know." He said quietly. "I'm so sorry Prowl, I didn't know if would go this wrong so soon after he's back."

Again, Prowl didn't say anything but walked away.

ooOOoo

The door slid open and Prowl jerked upright, optics shooting to the door in annoyance before down to the human standing just inside the doorway.

"Is it not polite to knock first before entering someone's office?" He ground out, glancing back at the datapads stacked on his desk.

"Ain't it polite to acknowledge someone knocking at someone's office?" Epps asked back with a crooked smirk. Prowl straightened again before glancing at the human. "I knocked twice. And then pounded. You didn't answer so Red let me in."

"Oh did he." Prowl said dryly, making a mental note not to snap at the mech again. When a mech can single handily keep Soundwave out of the network with nothing but a rundown terminal and a datapad, level 5 lock encryptions was sparkling play to him.

"I figured you'd want to see this." Epps continued, holding out a small pieces of highly reflective plastic.

"What is it?" Prowl asked, standing up before crouching down to take the plastic from the man. It was actually two pieces that formed a wide, flat ring. A CD. One side was blank but when he flipped them over, his spark stopped.

Etched in the surface, in Jazz's familiar scrawl, was his designation.

"Where did you get this?" Prowl demanded.

"Apparently one of the guys found it by a trashed dumpster. There was a lot of energon around it and he saw the broken disk. Recognised it for Cyber-writing and handed it over to me. Optimus said that it was your name." Epps explained.

"Yes it is." Prowl said quietly, staring at the disk before glancing up sharply when the door slid shut. Epps was gone.

He wasted no time heading toward communications and promptly tripped over Steeljaw in the doorway. The feline snarled at him, long tail lashing before slinking under the desk, blue optics locked on him.

"Told ya, that's a dumb spot to lay in." Blaster said, shoving the symbiont with his ped before spinning around in his chair to face Prowl with a beaming grin.

"Wha' can I do for you Prowl?" He asked, crossing his arms behind his helm and leaning back in his chair before giving the mech a smirk. "You're one of the few that don't trip over 'Jaw."

"I need you to get everything off this disk that you can. And as soon as you can." He said, handing Blaster the shards of the disk and completely ignoring the question. Blaster hissed air through his vent in mimic of a human whistling and Prowl winced at the sharp sound.

"Wow mech, you sure know how to pick em." Blaster said, examining the broken disk before pivoting in his chair. "Let me work my magic. Take a seat mah mech. won't take too long."

Prowl shook his helm, instead shifting his weight from ped to ped before habit won out and he started pacing the back of the room. Steeljaw watched him for a while before plopping his helm on his paws and drifting off into recharge.

"Huh."

"What." Prowl demanded, beside the red and gold mech fast enough that Steeljaw snarled at him.

"It's a song." Blaster mumbled, dropping a servo to stroke the lion's helm. "Well part of a song."

"Play it." Prowl ordered, leaning in toward the screen.

A fast drum beat started instantly and soon a violin kicked in before a male's voice started a chant like song.

It's of a bold young smuggler
From-
He rode the waves-
-never saw the jail

-up with contraband
Perfume, smokes and rum
He hoped the-
-make another-

You can still-
On a winter's-
Of his wake-
-light of the moon
-turns right
If you don't-
You can smell-

-Mountie boat-
-near Mortier Bay
-hit the spotlight
It was like the light of day

He didn't-
-him to heave to
-up the engines
And he ran for Spanish-

You can-
-night
in the light of the moon
If the-
-don't' take fright
-that French perfume

-heard him laughing
With the Mounties-
-screaming murder
-set in a grin

The seagulls-
-angry banshee choir
-rocks at 50 clicks
And the sky lit up with fire

-young smuggler
From Fortune-
-from St. Pierre
And he never-

-it's cold and foggy
On the rocks-
-hear him laughing
-smell that French perfume

You can-
On a-
-wake in the-
-wind turns right
If you -
-French perfume

-still see the sight
-winter's night
Of his wake-
-turns right
-take fright
-perfume

You can smell that-

The song cut out for a final time and Prowl frowned.

"That means nothing to me."

"It's a Newfoundland song." Blaster explained. "A Canadian band did this version, Great Big Sea or something like that. Anywhere, here's the rest of the lyrics."

He handed Prowl a datapad over his shoulder guard and the black and white mech took it. "There's a digital copy on there as well a complete original, in case you want to listen to it again."

"Thank you." Prowl replied before leaving and retreating back to his office.

Only to find the door locked.

"Red…" He growled over the comm.

"Ratchet made me do it. He realised you haven't refuelled since Jazz disappeared." Red Alert replied calmly. "Talk to him."

In a show of annoyance he jerked his doorwings in a rude gesture as he stalked away. Red chuckled over the comm.

"I'll let him know what you said."

"You do that." Prowl grumbled before subspacing the datapad and stalking toward the wreck room.

xxXXxx

Mathew slid into a bench at a hundred miles an hour, just about sliding right off and almost making Pierce drop the book he was reading.

"Who did it." He demanded, eyes wide in curiosity. "Who killed Jonathan."

Pierce grinned, setting the book off to the side to focus on his friend.

"You'll never believe this."

"What."

"Jon's not dead."

"What?! But there's no way he could have survived. They shot him before he fell out a six story building!"

"But he did." Pierce said with a grin. "And he'd been leaving secret messages for Bonnie the entire time she thought her boyfriend was dead."

"How did he pull that off?"

"He left her notes in songs."

"Get out. Seriously?!"

"Yeah! Songs with certain lines meant certain things. It was like a huge scavenger hunt."

"Well Jon did love music. What was he, DJ right?"

"Yeah. It was always through radio. He'd get certain songs to play that led her to different places. Sometimes, there would be a thumb drive or something there that would lead to another clue. And even better, to keep people from realising it was him, it was all sorts of music. Pop, Rock, Country, heck, he even did an Irish song."

Both men jumped as there was a sudden high pitched screech and reflectively every solder in the room grabbed for weapons. Both men spun in time to see black and white doorwings disappear around the corner into the hallway.

"The heck is up with Prowl?" Matt asked, relaxing slightly.

"He's been on edge for a while but that's a little extreme even for him." Pierce said with wide eyes before shrugging. "So anyways…"

xxXXxx

"Red Alert I swear to Primus if you don't let me in my office I will find some way to make your life a living pit." Prowl snarled over the comm. when an error message flashed across the lock. To his annoyance Red chuckled quietly but the lock on his office clicked open. Prowl darted in, locking the door behind him and dropping into his chair. He quickly pulled up the complete song as well as the lyrics and listened to them again.

Nothing made sense.

The man in the song dealt with illegal contraband and smuggled it into town. Both places mentioned, St. Pierre and Fortune were small coastal towns in Newfoundland, Canada, nowhere near the base. More so, the man gets caught but instead of the risk of going to jail, tries to make it to some cove where he commits suicide on the rocks. None of it had anything to do with the explosion.

"Maybe I'm looking too hard." He mumbled to himself, resting his elbow joint on the desk and cradling his jaw in his servo. "My designation was burnt into the CD. He obviously didn't have a lot of time."

With a scowl, he replayed the song, focusing on how it could apply to their lives and time on earth.

All of a sudden, things started adding up.

Jazz was special ops, his job was sneaking around and getting information without being caught. The same as a smuggler.

Except this time, the Mounties, or Decepticons in this case, were waiting for him and gave chase. But instead of getting caught, he tried to run for it and when he couldn't loose him, did what more and more mechs were doing. Commit suicide and taking as many with you as possible.

But if Jazz had intended to offline himself with the Decepticons, why leave the song. Why give him some kind of clue?

His processor stalled on the lyrics for the last chorus. It talked about in the right weather, you could still hear him and smell the perfume he had been trying to smuggle in.

So where was Jazz.

He quickly accessed the warehouse inventories and starting looking for anything that would have to do with the song. Nothing came up and with a scowl, he broadened the search to street names and the owners them selves.

A man by the name of Mortier Fernandez owned a warehouse on the edge of the bay, a couple blocks away from the warehouse that exploded. And it was on Spanish Room Road.

Prowl exploded out of his office, bolting down the hallway as he opened a comm to Optimus.

"I think I know where Jazz is." He said, sliding around a corner before the hallways were clear enough for him to drop forward into his altmode.

"Where."

"He never left the warehouse district." Prowl said, fishtailing out onto the runway and flooring it. Twin Lamborghinis pulled him behind him and he didn't bother to tell them to go back. They had been closer to Jazz then most realised and it hurt them almost as much as it hurt him to think that he was gone.

"What do you mean, we canvased the entire area, there's no sign of him." Optimus replied. "What makes you so sure he's still there?"

In response, Prowl sent Prime the song before focusing on the road racing past under his tires.

ooOOoo

Prowl screeched to stop outside the large warehouse, doorwings flared but to his disappointment, he still couldn't find anything.

"What makes you think he's here." Sideswipe asked, slowly walking up to the black and white mech.

"A CD with my glyph burned into it was found." Prowl explained. "It had a song on it, one that Jazz would have listened to."

"What's it called?"

"French Perfume." Prowl replied despite the odd look Sideswipe gave him.

"He still in his Irish phase?" Sunstreaker asked with a scowl.

"The artist is called Great Big Sea."

"Irish." Sunstreaker huffed.

"They're from Canada." Prowl corrected and Sunstreaker shuddered violently. One winter stuck in a cold airplane hangar because a blizzard had grounded all flights out of Winnipeg and the mech had sworn never to head farther north than Nebraska.

"That's even worse." He grumbled before looking around. "So a song led you here?"

"Something like that." Prowl said, glancing around before easily severing the simple chain holding the doors closed.

"Break and enter Prowl!" Sideswipe cried out in a loud whisper, absolutely scandalised. "You of all mechs breaking the law, what is the world coming to."

"Mute it." Prowl warned, shooting them a dark look as he slipped inside. "Keep watch."

"Ooh, partners in crime with Prowl." Sideswipe continued, snickering slightly. "My life just got a million times better."

Prowl carefully stepped between stacks of crates, already knowing his sensors would be useless to find Jazz. A quick search of the warehouse though proved what he had feared in that there was no trace of Jazz or any other Cybertronian for that matter.

Ducking though the doorway he faced a grinning Sideswipe but the smile quickly fell.

"Nothing?" he asked in voice too small for his frame.

"That doesn't make sense." He said as he slid the doors shut again. "The song…It ends in Spanish Room."

"Spanish Room? What are you talking about." Sunstreaker demanded with a huff.

"The seagulls started lifting / Like an angry banshee choir / He hit the rocks at 50 clicks / And the sky lit up with fire." Prowl quoted. "It's the explosion but Jazz isn't there."

"50 clikcs into a pile of rocks? Wow, can't image what that would do you your finsish." Sideswipe mutteed and Prowl stiffened.

"What did you say." He demanded and Sidesiwp shrank back a step.

"I said I can't image what that would do to your finish." He said.

"The rocks." Prowl mumbeled. "And when it's cold and foggy / On the rocks near Spanish Room / They say you hear-"

Prowl cut himself off as he realised where the mech was and took off.

"Where are you going now!" Sunstreaker yelled.

"He crashed on the rocks!" Prowl called back as he transformed and raced toward the back of the warehouse. "They say you hear him laughing / And you smell that French perfume!"

Skidding to a stop, he transformed on the edge of the boardwalk. Posts stabbed deep into the riverbed below and waves lapped at the old wood. Huge rocks meant to stop erosion lined the bank and Prowl stared down into the dark water. "To lose the Mounties he crashed on the rocks rather than get captured."

"Jazz is in the river?! You're kidding me!" Sideswipe sputtered. "How- but he was shot! The water would fry his systems!"

"Which is why he's not putting out a signal. He's in stasis." Prowl replied. "There!"

Neither twin had a chance to react before Prowl had lunged off the edge of the boardwalk in the water.

"Prowl you aft!" Sunstreaker yelled after him. "Fraggit!"

The mech didn't respond as cold muddy water seeped into every armor seam and instantly chilled him. But he knew what he had seen.

The water had cooled his frame to the point it didn't even show up on thermals. There was a faint trace of energon in the water though and Prowl was easily able to follow it upstream a bit until he literally stumbled over the unmoving mech. Jazz was curled up as tight as his agile frame could be and half buried in the silt of the river bed. It was difficult, but Prowl managed to move enough of the silt to pull the mech out of the mud and drag him back to shore.

Only to be greeted by a relieved, if not furious, medic and his Prime.

ooOOoo

"Ratchet is never going to let you back on duty, you know that right?" Prowl asked, glancing at Jazz out of the corner of his optic. The mech grinned, leaning back on his servos as he stretched his legs out before him. They were outside of the city on a low rise that gave them a view of the sunset. The area was virtually wide open so while they were exposed to any Decepticons, Ratchet could keep them in his sights while at the same time leaving them mostly alone. And quite frankly, Ratchet was just a little bit scarier.

"Ya, kinda figured tha." Jazz replied, still grinning as he soaked up the last rays of sun.

"How did you know I would find you?" He asked, resting his helm on his crossed arms to study Jazz. Flat on his chassis with his doorwings to the sun, he was dangerously vulnerable but he trusted Jazz with his life. "Blaster would have decoded that song faster."

"Naw 'ee woulden' 'ave." Jazz said, shaking his helm. "Mech's smart bu' 'ee woulden' 'ave gotten tha. Maybeh some o' it. But not where Ah was."

"You took a huge risk. What if that disk had never been found." Prowl pressed, shifting slightly to get comfortable int eh cool grass. "What if I had never decoded the song."

"Ya always find meh Prowler." He said, tipping the Praxian a cocky smirk. "Ah knew ya'd figure it out tah song 'ventrally."

Prowl nodded into his arms before relaxing again, the heat on his doorwings almost enough to make his drowsy.

"How did you get out of the warehouse before it exploded?" He asked suddenly.

"Can' tell ya tha'." Jazz said with a beaming grin, visor flashing as he laid down, arms propped under his helm. He started humming softly in his throat and Prowl shook his helm with a smirk as he instantly recognized the tune.

You can still see the sight
On a winter's night
Of his wake in the light of the moon
If the wind turns right
If you don't take fright
You can smell that French perfume


I don't own the song, French Perfume by Great Big Sea to anything as usual, just borrowing for my enjoyment. I had fun with this anyways so hope you guys liked it.

Read and Review! Love you guys!

Full Lyrics:

French Perfume - Great Big Sea

It's of a bold young smuggler
From Fortune he did sail
He rode the waves from St. Pierre
And never saw the jail

He filled her up with contraband
Perfume, smokes and rum
He hoped the fog was thick enough
To make another run

[Chorus:]
You can still see the sight
On a winter's night
Of his wake in the light of the moon
If the wind turns right
If you don't take fright
You can smell that French perfume

But the Mountie boat was waiting
As he crawled near Mortier Bay
And when they hit the spotlight
It was like the light of day

He didn't bring her head round
When they told him to heave to
He opened up the engines
And he ran for Spanish Room

[Chorus]

They said they heard him laughing
With the Mounties closing in
His engines screaming murder
And his face set in a grin

The seagulls started lifting
Like an angry banshee choir
He hit the rocks at 50 clicks
And the sky lit up with fire

It's of of a bold young smuggler
From Fortune he did sail
He rode the waves from St. Pierre
And he never saw the jail

And when it's cold and foggy
On the rocks near Spanish Room
They say you hear him laughing
And you smell that French perfume