Pipeye

 

She claimed the name “Captain Pipeye Twain” 

She’s a brat with a sailor's trunk

A Merchant's Marine from Skibareen

She’s a-waiting in yonder bunk

I played her card, and she rode me hard

whilst the night was warmed with rum

But now tis day, and she won't a-way

'til she's had another bump

And I don't mean rum, tis the other fun

needs trimming a-fore she sails

But flood me scuppers, there’s no getting upwards

I’m withered by her gales

A night in the throes of her mightiest blows

Has me hull sitting heavy and low,

just one more wink and I’ll likely sink 

to the locker where Davey Jones dove

But disdaining harm, I’m scraping me barnacle

Hoping to “up“ me main-mast,

’Cause this must end, I’ll tell you friend

Belowdecks is no place for yer lass!

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