This song is sung by sailing crews on their way back to the Magnagoran docks. A
Supervisor sings the verses with the entire crew - regardless of rank - joining
in on the refrain. It is a remarkable testament to the unity of the Engine's
cogs, and the steady cadence helps the Serfs stay synchronized even after
several days of rowing.

The song can be heard regardless of the ship's actual destination or purpose,
but most likely Spectre Isle was used due to the frequency of sailing trips,
there. A similar song is sometimes used by aethership crews, however the lyrics
vary widely on many points. The bit about the niece remains universally intact.

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Back on Tainted turf, whether Worker or Serf,
Magnagora's a hard land.
But we'll rest no more till we sleep on her shore
Till the Warlord's next command.
Our sails in the air on the Sea of Despair
And our black and gold flag's flown,
And we won't turn back on a different tack
Till we see the Megalith stone.

Hey ho, my lads!
Heave and row, my lads!
There's a dark light drawing ye home.
And we won't turn back on a different tack
Till we see the Megalith stone.

Oh, we sailed awhile out to Spectre Isle
For to mix up some Beggar's Stew.
So we put to rest ghosts of Old Celest
To condense in a spiritual brew.
Now a dark song calls from Lord Raezon's halls
And the veiled shades of Lord Fain.
So we'll sail this boat down the Legion's throat
Till we see Their shrines again.

Hey ho, my lads!
Heave and row, my lads!
There's a dark light drawing ye home.
And we won't turn back on a different tack
Till we see the Megalith stone.

Then we'll take that Stew to a beggar's crew
And we'll round up all the trash.
With a dirk and a smirk, we'll lead them to work
And a new life under the lash.
Oh, the spikes they yield by our Nil Lords sealed
We will take for pow'r supply.
Tho' we don't mean to strain Necromentate's brain,
Thus we'll fuel the Engine for aye!

Hey ho, my lads!
Heave and row, my lads!
There's a dark light drawing ye home.
And we won't turn back on a different tack
Till we see the Megalith stone.

Magnagoran ale leaves you strong and hale
And the gruel's beyond compare.
Undead chefs, says I, and their grub meat pie,
On your chest will put serious hair.
Loyal hearts will rise under dark'ning skies.
Nowhere else has such allure.
And I'll find my peace with a comely niece
For to keeps my bloodline pure!

Hey ho, my lads!
Heave and row, my lads!
There's a dark light drawing ye home.
And we won't turn back on a different tack
Till we see the Megalith stone.

There's a cold, black wind
Blows us home again!
Soon, the corpse-lined bridges we'll roam.
And we won't turn back on a different tack
Till we see the Megalith stone.