In the wee hours of morning
In Boston on a moonless night
The Sons of Liberty
Crept down the street

Quiet as mice,
Stealthy as shadows
Inching towards the harbor

They mounted many ships
Finding what they were looking for
The crates of tea.

So many crates of tea,
Piled on top of one another
So much tea.

The Sons of Liberty,
Still quiet as mice,
Stealthy as shadows

Picking up tea from the ship
Putting it on the dock below
Dumping it in the harbor
Over and over and over again.
The men scurried aboard the ships
Still, dumping tea
For quite a long time
Quick as could be

The moon was still not bright
As if not wanting to watch the scene
No one except them knew what was happening then
But, still it is a major event in history

£10,000 of tea thrown in the harbor
All and all
So much lost
So much gained

The hum of the Boston Harbor
Still tells the tale
Of the wondrous or horrid night
However you put it.