2013 Day 3 – Shanty

When I was younger the verses came easy
Oh, woe, my head’s all at sea
Now I am older and tired and queasy
Don’t ask me for poems, my head’s all at sea

I wrote odes for wenches with bosoms like pillows
Oh, woe, my head’s all at sea
I hoped they would let me be tossed on their billows
Don’t ask me for poems, my head’s all at sea

I thought that my maiden voyage would be quick
Oh, woe, my head’s all at sea
But I ended up tumbled and dizzy and sea-sick
Don’t ask me for poems, my head’s all at sea

I said if she showed me her treasure I’d dig it
Oh, woe, my head’s all at sea
When I asked her to sail on my ship she said ‘Frigate!’
Don’t ask me for poems, my head’s all at sea

So I’m shipwrecked and weary, my verses forgotten
Oh, woe, my head’s all at sea
And I fear there are are barnacles on my bottom
Don’t ask me for poems, my head’s all at sea

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