No Pirate’s Lament

When the ocean’s calm and shiny it be joyous to behold When the spyglass sights Port Royal there be good rum to be sold When a pirate holds the spyglass and his ship be filled of gold Might he take a wife and buy some rum and stay there till he’s old But a pirate ain’t for settling down with England on his tail Lest the King’s own privateers be under yonder sail So it’s keep a girl in every port who’s sweet on contraband And if she be a willing one he needs no motherland I heard the word that some day men like me would be but scum Until that day I think I’ll have me lots and lots of fun And if I find meself a wife before that time has come I knows it isn’t noble… but I’d like a pretty one When one of them there ladies took a fancy to me loot She’d tucked away a gem or two inside her dainty boot I took her to the gangplank saying just get off me boat I said yer quite a buxom wench, I think ye’ll likely float But I gave her me blessing to gaze up at me and gloat Should I be taken by some privateers who take me boat I’ll look her in the eye remembrin what’s beneath her frock When me neck is in a loop of rope at Execution Dock But I ain’t been taken yet and it be quite a certain bet Blighty says I’m twice as bad as pirates ever get Though a privateer was waiting for me as I came ashore And his musket made a hole in me where no hole was before He couldn’t know the hole that he had shot into my leg Was in the leg surrendered to a wayward powder keg A musket offers just one shot in spite of shooter’s wishes And so there be a privateer a swimming with the fishes One shot muskets ain’t that good for shooting from the hip So I loaded up me schooner with the booty from his ship And we made the crew an offer that they never would refuse Jump to join your cap’n or we’ll use your skin for shoes Well they leapt into the ocean and I couldn't help but laugh They were safer in that ‘deep’ blue sea than in a metal bath We sailed into a sunset knowing soon they’d understand That if they put their boots down then their feet would touch the sand Should me lungs fill up with briny as I make me last descent Me final words will never be a pirate’s sad lament All me deeds were deeded with the very best intent Some might say, ‘Old Fungus Face was truly Heaven sent.” I’m a scoundrel and a robber and I take the British coin I stand accused of taking all the gold I can purloin I hold my hands up for that is a truth I can’t dispute I liberate the wealth of Kings and that I don’t refute They call it tax, but here’s the facts; they milk the nation dry And someone has to stop them and it seems that man is I So I roam the seas to seek the nation’s shilling and its gold To distribute among the poor, the feeble and the old But let me share the secret held by every pirate, feared Don’t ye rob yer King before ye’ve growed a massive beard And when yer done with pirating and need to pack it in Take yer cutthroat razor and shave off that bushy chin Then no-one’s gonna know ya face nor put ye in your place But when the robbin’s done with and ya seek a calmer pace ’member this if ye don’t ’member any word I said Go live yer decent life… but keep yer cutlass ’neath yer bed.