 IT’S A PIRATE’S LIFE
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Most pirates were former sailors, former slaves, or former tradesmen. That meant they were many things, but not lazy. The picture we often have of pirates living a relaxed, lazy life is false. To be a pirate meant to work hard! So if you plan to be a good pirate, get to work!
It’s a pirate’s life. It’s a pirate’s day.
You can lead or follow but don’t get in our way.
It’s a pirate’s world, where we live and learn
and we sing yo-ho while the ports behind us burn.
Here, there be no slackers,
no dawdlers, no dead weight,
no jobs half-done, no tasks half-heart,
no idle dogs, so if you’re smart,
you’ll cinch your belt up---do your part,
or feast from an empty plate.
We put up with most folks,
but for those not keen on work.
Here, each free-booter has a job,
a sail to furl, a deck to swab,
but if you are lazy slob
we’ll tender ye to a shark.
The pirate’s life is a peaceful life
for the ones who keep their guard.
The pirate’s life is a cushy life
for the pirates who work hard.
It’s a pirate’s life, but you must pay toll,
if you hope to see what awaits you pole to pole.
It’s a pirate’s world, and we love it—yes!
so get back to work if you plan to sail with us.
RETURN TO THE MERMAID’S FIN
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: The “Mermaid’s Fin” is based on a poem I wrote called “Night at the Whaler’s Inn.” It’s a fun “ghost story” you can hear on my CD entitled, amazingly enough, “Night at the Whaler’s Inn.”
Ah, welcome back, good friend. Come in!
Good luck has brought you back again
to shore and this, the Mermaid’s Fin,
the pirates’ favorite friendly hold
where pirate secrets can be told.
The wind and waves make war with land,
but we have scurvy dogs on hand.
So stow yer swords and lend yer ears
to sailors, rogues, and buccaneers.
The weather’s fierce, yet all be well,
for we have pirate tales to tell!
Come in.
TORTUGA
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Tortuga (which means “Turtle”) was probably the friendliest island and port for pirates to anchor. It is located at the northern part of today’s Haiti. Pirates often arrived rich with plunder, but left poor and drunk. It goes without saying that those who really got rich during the age of pirates were those who had items to sell in the ports.
It’s good to be back in Tortuga
where only the scallywag goes.
It’s good to be where there be wenches in drenches
and stenches to curl up your nose.
It’s good to be back in Tortuga,
where I’ve got a lass to attract.
And when I must go, it relieves me to know
Tortuga will welcome me back.
It’s good to be back in Tortuga,
where bragging is part of its lure.
There’s always a pirate who’s won more, begun more,
or done more than I could endure.
It’s good to be back in Tortuga
and free of the stocks and the rack.
And when I must go, it relieves me to know
Tortuga will welcome me back.
Tortuga expects nothing of ya!
Tortuga will be your best friend!
Tortuga will certainly love ya—
until ya got nothin’ to spend.
It’s good to be back in Tortuga,
where secrets have little to fear,
and if something happens to burn ya or spurn ya
you’ll learn not to trust what ya hear.
It’s good to be back in Tortuga,
and if I should wander off track
with nowhere to go, it consoles me to know
Tortuga will welcome me back.
THE JOLLY NOSTRIL
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: A “sloop” is a small ship with one mast and two sails. Pirates usually preferred their ships to be small (not huge galleons!) because they were faster and could sneak easily into shallow waters. All ships had names—usually women’s names. More importantly, when pirates sacked and took over a ship, they often changed the name of the ship. A good ship might change names a half-dozen times. While there is, as yet, no ship called the Jolly Nostril, I plan to give the first ship I plunder that name.
She’s a hearty sloop for fixer-upper,
swift as violent sneeze,
Ah, their ain’t no boat like the Jolly Nostril—
pick of the seven seas.
She’s a better friend than a good hound dog,
though both are full of fleas.
and she’s prettier than any bride,
and easier to please.
She’s a warmer bed than one back home
when hammocked with a friend.
And she’s plump and plum like a good prize pig,
though both are best downwind.
While she may look a drunken man
in how she sways and grunts,
but she’ll give you anything you ask
if you give her what she wants.
She will feed you like your grandma did,
with extra gobs of lard.
She will love you like your mama did
--spank you twice as hard!
SCURVY DOGS AND SCALLYWAGS
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Scurvy was a common sailor sickness that resulted from a lack of Vitamin C. The symptoms included black gums, a loss of teeth, and, if not cured, death. So how do you prevent it? Eat foods with Vitamin C—oranges, limes, or strawberries!
Scurvy dogs and scallywags,
traitors, raiders, nasty hags,
bullies, bandits, crocks and crooks,
blokes with either hands or hooks,
one-eyed villains, two-eyed cons,
kings or queens or rooks or pawns—
sure, the scoundrel’s life is rough…
but you’ve been teachers long enough—
so off of your duffs ya young cream puffs
and join us!
PIRATICAL NAME
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Most pirates didn’t have cool pirate names—and many of the famous names were given to pirates AFTER they died. However, a good pirate name could intimidate others. After all, would “Blackbeard” seem as scary if he went by his real name, “Edward Teach”?
You don’t need a hook or a peg-leg,
though it helps if yer aimin’ fer fame.
You don’t need a ship or a chest full of gold—
all ya need’s a piratical name!
Yes, a practical, radical name.
Oh, what’s in a name? Quite a lot!
Sometimes it’s all an honest knave has got!
Think of an adjective first off
that describes how you feel in one word.
Then pick a color that suits ya!
Last pick your favorite bird.
Now add your last name and like that—
it will fit like a three-corner hat.
It matters, of course, how you say it.
Grit your teeth, stand up straight, and be proud.
Then gather some spit in the back of your throat
and say your name lively and loud!
Oh, what’s in a name? Quite a lot!
Sometimes it’s all an honest knave has got!
A WOMAN ON BOARD
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: The wives of officers were allowed on ships, but otherwise women were deemed distractions and, yes, bad luck. Even the two most famous female pirates—Anne Bonney & Mary Read—dressed as men to hide their identities.
A woman on board is bad, bad luck,
infuriating as a fly.
A woman on board is bad, bad luck,
and I can tell you why.
Because she’s beautiful,
even if she’s hag.
Because she’s beautiful,
when compared to the scallywag.
It don’t take much to catch our eyes
when the deck is filled with ugly guys.
Her eyes, her hips, her lips, her thighs are beautiful.
So make her walk the plank!
A woman on board may blow a kiss
till a hardened crew turns soft.
A woman on board may smile like this,
so it’s best to throw her off.
Because she’s beautiful,
even if she’s hag.
Because she’s beautiful,
when compared to the scallywag.
It don’t take much to catch our eyes
when the deck is filled with ugly guys.
The way she walks (and talks all day!)—it’s beautiful.
So make her walk the plank!
She’ll want to civilize us,
or worse, make us polite.
She’ll make us want to brush our teeth
and take a bath each night.
A woman on board is pirate sin,
she’ll make us all act weird.
till we all wake up gentlemen
and the “arrh!” has disappeared.
Because she’s beautiful,
even if she’s hag.
Because she’s beautiful,
when compared to the scallywag.
It don’t take much to catch our eyes
when the deck is filled with ugly guys.
The way perfume perks up a room is beautiful.
So make her walk the plank!
PEG-LEG GREG
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: According to the pirate code (and, yes, each ship had one), pirates split their plunder equally. However, if you lost a leg or an eye or an arm, you got more loot! Hmm.
Peg-leg Greg has two good legs,
and not a one that’s got a peg;
but Peg-Leg Greg is Peg-Leg Greg
because his right leg’s name is Peg.
The other leg, the one near Peg,
whose name is “Other-Leg-Near-Peg”
is mad Greg’s name is not just “Greg”
or “‘Other-Leg-Near-Peg’-Leg Greg.’”
DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: This song mentions four real pirates. Captain Kidd supposedly hid any evidence of pirating by throwing his plunder off the side. Truth is, Kidd was never really a pirate—or if he was, he wasn’t a very good one. But fewer know about Edward (Ned) Low, the only major pirate who attacked ships and towns for no reason other than to hurt and kill people. He was the meanest, most terrible pirate ever. He gives evil pirates a bad name!
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: The famous pirate phrase, “Dead men tell no tales,” is not a pirate phrase at all. Like so much pirate lore, it originated with Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, but also made popular by a 1938 British movie called, well, Dead Men Tell No Tales.
Dead men tell no tales.
Dead men tell no tales.
With a heave and a ho, ever tale they know
gets tossed to the sharks and whales
where dead men tell no tales.
Dead men tell no tales.
None but Captain Kidd
knows where his loot be hid,
knows where he sunk it, if he did
but dead men tell no tales.
None but cruel Ned Low
could ever really know,
could tell what charred his black heart so,
but dead men tell no tales.
What of Mary Reed?
She disappeared indeed.
She pled her belly and was freed,
but dead men tell no tales.
They lopped off Blackbeard’s head.
They hung it high. Instead
they should have listened as it said,
“Dead men tell no tales.”
PIRATE MOVIE STAR
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Okay, most people know about pirates from movies. If you want to see a really great pirate movie, may I recommend Captain Blood starring Errol Flynn and Disney’s Treasure Island. The all-time most under-rated pirate film is Disney’s Treasure Planet. I’ll let you know when my big movie role comes up.
Right now, I’m just the swabber of decks,
a grunt the captain barely respects.
I’m just a petty unimportant pirate today,
but one day I’ll be a movie star.
So set your course to find the next box office.
Watch the silver screen light up with me.
I’ll be by far the biggest movie star
who ever robbed and raided the sea.
Someday I’m gonna be a star!
Just look at me, I’m gonna be a star.
Right now, I’m just the bilge of the crew,
but wait, until my chick-flick debut.
The wenches and the lasses may ignore me today,
but one day I’m gonna be a star.
Cast me as a villain and I’ll play it mean,
or possibly the hero with a kissing scene.
I probably should wait until they film me first,
but my Oscar speech is written, ready, and rehearsed.
So set your course to find the next box office!
Ah, Johnny Depp can’t hold a blade to me!
I’ll be by far the biggest movie star
who looks the part without good CG.
So set your course to find the next box office.
Watch the silver screen light up with me.
I’ll be by far the biggest movie star
who ever robbed and raided the sea.
Someday I’m gonna be a star!
Just look at me, I’m gonna be the star.
IT’S GOOD LUCK TO KISS A PIRATE
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: It has been reported that when ship came to port from a long voyage, one could smell the vessel before it anchored. After months of hard labor with few baths and smelly food, I can only imagine the stench. Kisses, anyone?
It’s good luck to kiss a pirate
when he smells like seven months at sea,
when his lips are cooked and crusty.
So how about a kiss for me?
It’s good luck to kiss a pirate,
though his underarms could make you flee,
when his hair is slick and slimy.
So how about a kiss for me?
Hurry up and put your pucker on,
cause once I take a bath the luck’s all gone.
It’s good luck to kiss a pirate
when his shirt is dirty brown with sweat,
when his rosy nose is leaking,
what better offer can you get?
It’s good luck to kiss a pirate
when he’s eaten little else but fish,
when his beard is smeared with fungi,
so close your eyes and make a wish.
Hurry up and put your pucker on,
cause once I take a bath the luck’s all gone.
What a lucky break, the best you’ve had—
to be kissed by one who stinks this bad.
It’s good luck to kiss a pirate
when he stinks like seven months at sea,
and when his lips are burnt and crusty.
So how about a kiss for me?
LET THE DEVIL HAVE THE KING
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Sea-chanteys (or shanties) were work songs. The purpose of the song was to provide a rhythm for a crew labor under. It allowed for crews to pull ropes, unfurl sails, and swab decks in an efficient manner. Also, the songs were often humorous (and sometimes crude) to keep the men’s spirits up. This song is an example of such a work song.
O give us rum and life at sea,
but let the devil have the king.
Give us gold and air that’s free,
but let the devil have the king.
Give us wind enough to be
beyond a parliament's decree
from Martinique to Tripoli—
but let the devil have the king.
And give us ports to anchor in,
with beds and pubs a-plumb within
and cheers to greet ol’ Roger’s grin—
but let the devil have the king.
O give us rum and life at sea,
but let the devil have the king.
Give us gold and air that’s free,
but let the devil have the king.
Give our mates safe passage when
they sleep in Davy Jones’s den,
where one day we’ll clink mugs again—
but let the devil have the king.
O give us rum and life at sea,
but let the devil have the king.
And give us gold and air that’s free,
but let the devil have the king.
WHEN YOUR MOM IS THE CAPTAIN
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: That’s my son Ramsey singing on this song. And, yes, his mom really is the captain!!!
It’s so hard to be a pirate,
to be fierce as an arctic breeze,
when your mom is the captain,
and the scourge of the seven seas.
You can guess without trying
whom the crew is gonna tease
when your mom is the captain
and the scourge of the seven seas.
“Don’t make me turn this boat around,”
Mom says in Mom cliché,
“When I was young I sailed to school
and back uphill both ways.”
As longs as me and Mom are so connected,
I’ll never be ferociously respected,
“You call that music? Turn it down!”
Mom frowns at me and schools,
“While you live under my sails, son,
then you’ll live by my rules.
Go back inside and practice on your fiddle!”
I will if you won’t wash my face with spittle.
I’d get more duties done if Mom
weren’t always there to hover.
And even worse, these scurvy dogs
all absolutely love her.
But can’t I play with swords? “I already said no!”
But why? “I’ll tell you why—Because I said so!”
“This hurts me more than it hurts you,”
she says with a sad face.
But I say, Mom, that might be true,
but not in the same place!
WORMS AND WEEVILS
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Weevils are tiny bugs that love wheat. But when the wheat was harvested to make bread, often the weevils got into the flour, which became bread. As the bread and butter grew rotten, often there were the added maggots. If you were hungry enough, a few worms and insects in your food would be welcome protein!
Worms and weevils, mice and rats
are writhing in our butter.
Worms and weevils, mice and rats
make bitter butter better.
Worms and weevils, mice and rats
are dreadful in the gutter,
but worms and weevils, mice and rats
are scrumptious in the butter.
NO WONDER WE LOVE PLUNDER
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: I won’t lie—I desperately want to write another stage musical (and this song could be fun for a slimy villain to sing!)
Not one doubloon counts as bliss
as a doubloon pinched like this.
Work makes the worker turn grey.
There must be an easier way
to make this life pay out today.
It’s no wonder we love plunder—
it’s no wonder we’ll plunder what’s under the sun.
It’s not honest effort we shirk,
but everything else sounds like work.
Go get a job! Earn your keep!
Work, work, and work—maybe eat and sleep.
And what little’s left you can save.
Be a good buccaneer and behave—
or so says the stiff in the grave.
Wait a minute!
But on our ship, we all work together!
We work, with each other to thank.
It’s not always fun, but we get the job done.
It’s that sort of talk that will earn you the plank!
It’s no wonder we love plunder—
we’ll sneak up like thunder and plunder what may!
It’s not honest effort we shirk,
but everything else sounds like work.
Relax! People’s taxes will keep us afloat.
It’s not honest effort we shirk,
but everything else sounds like work.
THE MASTER, THE SWABBER
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: The words to this song are taken from Shakespeare’s last play, The Tempest. It’s meant to be sung by a drunken sailor, which seems fitting. I will admit to making some slight lyrical changes, which is almost unpardonable. You can’t change Shakespeare! Oops, I just did!
The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
the gunner and his mate
loved Moll, Meg, and Marion, and Margery,
but none of us cared for Kate.
For she had a tongue with a tang.
She’d say to a sailor, “Go hang!”
She loved not the savor of pitch nor of tar—
but a pirate might woo her with strums of guitar.
Then to sea boys and let her go hang!
Then to sea boys and let her go hang!
EVERYONE SHOUTED “HUZZAH!”
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Sailors would have been more likely to shout “Huzzah” than the more modern rendering, “Hooray!” I like it better. Huzzah!
I entered a tavern that blustery night,
hoping to find me a friend.
It’s not always easy for pirates to know
whom they should trust in the end.
The tavern grew quiet and everyone stared,
and somebody reached for his sword.
I thought I was done for when someone in back
shouted out, “Welcome aboard!”
Aye, then everyone shouted “Huzzah!”
And everyone shouted “Yo Ho!”
I knew then and there all I needed to know
when everyone shouted “Huzzah!”
Aye, then everyone shouted “Ahoy!”
Then everyone shouted “Three Cheers!”
I felt right at home with those old buccaneers
when everyone shouted “Huzzah!”
We dabbled in stories of how we survived
treacherous battles and such,
and treasures we lost and then found and then lost,
but no one seemed troubled too much.
I raised up a bottle of good sasparill
and out gushed a fountain of foam.
I said, “Here’s to pirates with hearts of pure gold,
who welcome the traveler back home.
Good pirates know treasure depends
less on riches than having good friends.
I entered a tavern that blustery night
alone, lost, and just a bit scared.
But I found me a treasure that only gets bigger
and richer the more it gets shared.
BUCCANEER PETE’S FEET
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: I have nothing valuable to say about this song except—wash your feet!!!
Buccaneer Pete!
Buccaneer Pete!
You ain’t smelled nothing as bad as his feet.
Feed a whole fleet
with rotten goat meat,
but nothing stinks worse than Pete’s two feet…
…except for Lou!
Buccaneer Lou!
You ain’t smelled nothing like Lou’s chum stew.
Even when Sue
got poo on her shoe,
it couldn’t stink worse than yum chum stew…
…except for Claire!
Buccaneer Claire!
You ain’t smelled worse than his underwear.
Dirty dog hair
may sour the air,
but it can’t compare to his underwear…
…except for Joel!
Buccaneer Joel!
Wait till you smell Joel’s toilet bowl!
Maybe a troll
got stuck in the hole
and died deep down in his toilet bowl…
…but what about for Hugh?
Buccaneer Hugh!
You ain’t smelled nothing like Hugh’s shampoo.
Sniff the whole crew
or even sniff you,
but nothing stinks worse than Hugh’s shampoo…
…except for Pete!
Buccaneer Pete!
You ain’t smelled nothing as bad as his feet.
Feed the whole fleet
with rotten goat meat,
but nothing stinks worse than Pete’s two feet.
STILL NO TREASURE CHEST IN SIGHT
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: As far as we know, only fictional pirates buried treasure. Again, this myth comes from the great Robert Louis Stevenson—that, and the myth of walking the plank.
Another day, another night,
and still no treasure chest in sight.
We dig-dig-dig, we rake-rake-rake,
we hardly sleep, then wake-wake-wake.
We work-work-work without a break--
we dig-dig-dig, we rake-rake-rake.
Another day, another night,
And still no treasure chest in sight!
CRABS
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Like so much of this project, this poem is description of a scene in Disneyland’s “Pirates of the Caribbean.” You’ll see this scene to your right immediately after the second water drop.
The crabs on the beach
are having such fun
inside of and out of
a dry skeleton.
The bones have been bleached
moon-white in the sun—
in one hand’s a sword,
the other a gun.
They slide down its ribs,
drink tea in its head.
Most crabs think a pirate’s
more fun when he’s dead.
STORMS APPROACHING
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: Of course, few things would terrify a crew like a bad storm. The starboard side would be the right side of the ship, while the port side would be the left. The rear side is called “aft.” See if you can learn what a pirate would call the ship’s front.
HEY, DID YOU ALSO KNOW: The Flying Dutchman was a ship that supposedly crashed trying to sail south of Cape Horn in bad weather. Sailors believed that if they saw the ship—that is, it’s ghost—they and their crew were doomed.
Storms approaching!
Starboard side!
Looks to be the devil’s ride!
But we will not go down tonight—
not without a fight.
Not without a fight!
Fix your lifelines! Start to furling
sails before the winds starting whirling
round our heads until we’re hurling
toward the planet’s ledge
and Hades’ anchorage.
In the distance, I can see the
Flying Dutchman, that may be a
dreadful sign, Ave Maria!
Are we done—not quite!
no, not without a fight!
We’ve faced off the Spanish galleons,
Chinese fleets, and French battalions.
We can meet these tempest stallions.
We will not give in,
or curtsy to the wind.
SEA SICK
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: It’s also possible to get “land sick.” If you’ve been at sea for long time, coming back on land can result in similar symptoms. Ick!
The ocean, for all of its merits,
makes bellies feel full of live ferrets.
We squawk like a flock of crazed parrots
and what goes down beef comes up carrots.
A THOUSAND LEAGUES AWAY
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: A league is the equivalent of a one-hour’s walk or about three miles. The sad singers in this song are, thus, about 3,000 miles apart. But think about this: If a league equals three miles, how deep is 20,000 leagues under the sea? That’s right! The world’s not big enough to go that deep!
Kate, cup your ears to the cry of the waves,
to the sigh of the ocean’s white spray.
Perhaps you will hear how I ache to be near you,
a thousand leagues away.
A thousand leagues away,
and so much world between us.
I craved an adventure and left you to stay,
cause I had to hear what the sirens would say,
and now I’m tormented with grief every day,
a thousand leagues away.
A thousand leagues away.
I begged you, please not to take to the sea,
now eternity lies in each day.
But if fate allows you safe course, I’ll still be here—
A thousand leagues away.
A thousand leagues away,
and so much world between us.
You craved adventure and left me to stay,
For you had to hear what the sirens would say,
and now I’m tormented with grief every day,
a thousand leagues away.
A thousand leagues away.
My ship comes home at the end of the year
but I’m frightened at what you will say.
Some find their bearings, still others can lose them
a thousand leagues away.
A thousand leagues away,
and so much world between us.
You craved an adventure and left me to stay,
cause I had to hear what the sirens would say,
and now I’m tormented with grief every day,
a thousand leagues away.
A thousand leagues away.
MY POCKET COMPASS POINTS TO YOU
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: A compass points north because the magnetic pull of the earth lies somewhere near the North Pole.
My pocket compass points due north,
exactly as it ought to do.
Since you, my Love, lie west of me,
it indirectly points to you.
I pull it out and wait to see
which way is N, then sail to E.
YO HO (A PIRATE’S LIFE FOR ME)
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: This song is, of course, the theme song from Disneyland’s and Walt Disney World’s greatest ride—Pirates of the Caribbean. The words were written by Xavier Atencio, one of the ride’s designers.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We pillage plunder, we rifle and loot.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We extort and pilfer, we filch and sack.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Maraud and embezzle and even highjack.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We kindle and charm, enflame and ignite.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We burn up the city, we're really a fright.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We're rascals and scoundrels, we're villains and knaves.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We're devils and black sheep, we're really bad eggs.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We're beggars and blighters and ne'er do-well cads,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
by Gerald Bruns and Xavier Atencio
© 1967 Walt Disney Music. Used with permission.
GIVE A POOR PIRATE A PENNY
HEY, DID YOU KNOW: The words from this song are inspired by Mother Goose—“Give a Poor Singer a Penny.” The song is meant to remind us that very, very, very few pirates lived long or happily ever after.
I’ll sing you a song
and it’s not very long
yet I think it’s as pretty as any.
Put yer hand in yer purse
and you’ll never be worse,
if you give a poor pirate a penny.
Won’t you give a poor pirate a penny?
Li-li-li-li-li….
I’ll sing a sweet phrase
of the far away days
when the oceans were teaming with many
ol’ sea dogs like me
who were scoundrels, but free,
if you give a poor pirate a penny.
Won’t you give a poor pirate a penny?
Li-li-li-li-li….
For a three-farthing, I
can be coaxed to sing why
there are few of us left here, if any.
How the noose, one by one,
took them all till there’s none
but a pirate in need of a penny.
Won’t you give a poor pirate a penny?
Li-li-li-li-li….
©2011 Mennard Solutions. Use of these lyrics without permission may result in scurvy or walking the plank.
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