We shall plunder your ship
an old ship of our line.
Dare you fight
This, Ninty-pounder might.
On your trail were
our sloops alright.
Ahoy says my lieutenant.
We have you in sights.
Fifty four on two decks
Like a corvette’s disenchanted ride.
Aligned are our sails as fear dragoons
A point to the starboard parallel we fight
Waving whites
Tarry awhile,
Gunners at ports
Drown main mast and smile.
Where are the whites?
There, She- pirates in tights.
Heated balls, crackling: our main mast, alights.
Holy cow, not a single shot, there goes our defense without fights.
Midshipmen running blind
Armored beauties, capturing, our might.
Quickly sir, tossing uniforms we are travelers in fright.
Cutlass’s here shining blades there, we see no way to flight.
Down on your knees say’s this sleaze size;
Duly chained and cuffed learning to be this pirate’s prize.