Dead men tell no tales   Up push the daisies ‘til the soil is stale   In the powder blue tux for the farmer sale   Mr. Big Sleep with the carp and kale      Once upon a time in the days of yore   When the people lived fresh out of legend and folklore   There was an old pirate who pilot a vile slang   Had a bird perched on him that swashbuckle the same      Peg leg navigate him starboard to port   By the nautical starry night yelling “the harbor is yours”   And you should tell him where you situate the gold   That is unless you’d like a vacation with Davy J-J-J-Jones   Like walk, plank for whom the shark thank   Maroon the mutineers, consume the souvenirs   And while the shiny spoils piled higher every year   He was suffocating slow in the box of a buccaneer      10 summers prior on a night like this   Crow’s nest scope something afloat to the boat’s west   Swore it blew him a kiss   When he focused seen the face of an angel upon the body of a f-f-f-fish   What the heck, frazzled, his telescope shattered, gathered himself   She was ghost, he was down the rope ladder to deck   Circle the vessel to 360 swiftly   Found nothing in the water but salt, piss, and whiskey   Yar, heckled by the swabbies at the bar   He’ll be the laughing stock of the barbary coast war like   “This dude either got 2 glass eyes,   or he’s wearing his patch on the wrong s-s-s-side”      Now he knew what he saw, but had to prove he was raw   So he raped, and he pillaged, and he feud and he brawl   Tried to re-kindle his rep via sabers and gun-smoke   And vowed to always find her, though he never told his cut throats   Meanwhile back in the now, got a brand new skeleton crew on the move out   When they aren’t manning 30 burning cannons stern to bow   They are prying shiny metals out your m-m-m-mouth   Ok, youth weans, oldage holler wisdom and disease   Like the scurvy made his yellow gums bleed   And he was achy from the boots to the feather in his hat   ‘til his quarter-master showed up with a stolen treasure map   One look down and leapt off the dock   See if you can guess where X marked the spot   The capital was buried at sea in a cursed cave   Only one mile from where he’d seen the mer-mer-mer-maid      Anchors up, hoist the jolly roger, thank you much   Day and night with his hook hands raised and clutched   But see the vitamin deficiency was strong   So by the time they bumped into the island he could barely lift his grog   Crawled off the boat, collapsed in the sand   Prayers in the air sea shells in his hand   And nary a high tide so grand   As the one that put the lady of the lake on dry l-l-l-land      And i wish i could tell you that it ended happy   Pretend like his bones weren’t practically snapping   Pretend like her gills didn’t dry up and suffer   But that’s a half-dead pirate and a fish out of water,   No lie, scout’s honor, got a million more   From the burgundy lighting above the shores of whores   Before your visions of grandeur go to swell those sails   Remember dead men tell no t-t-t-tales.