Throw your babies in the air.
|
|
Dead men tell no tales.
|
Just up push the daisies till the soil is stale
|
In a padded blue tux for the farmer's sale
|
Mr. big sleep with the carp and kelp
|
|
Once upon a time in the days of yore
|
when the people lived fresh outta legend and folk lore
|
There was an old pirate who piloted a vile slang
|
had a bird perched on him and swash buckled the same
|
peg leg navigator starboard to port
|
by the nautical star Emmanuel an the harbor is yours
|
and you should tell them where you situate the gold
|
that is unless you¡¯d like a vacation with davy j-j-j-jones.
|
|
like "walk the plank" for whom the shark thank
|
maroon the mutineers consume the souvenirs.
|
come all the shiny spoils piled higher every year
|
he was suffocating slow in the box of a buccaneer
|
ten summers prior on a night like this
|
crows nest scopes something afloat to the boats west
|
swore it blew him a kiss
|
when he focused saw the face of an angel upon the body of a
|
f-f-f-fish.
|
|
"What the heck!" grabbed for his telescope
|
shatter gathered himself
|
she was ghost he was down the rope latter
|
to deck circled the vessel the 360 swiftly
|
found nothing in the water but salt, piss and whiskey.
|
Yarr,
|
heckled by the swabbies at the bar,
|
he'll be the laughing stock of the barbary coast war
|
like this dude either got two glass eyes
|
or he 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
|
and he'd feud and he'd brawl
|
try to rekindle his rep via sabers and gun smoke
|
and vowed to always find her though he never told his cutthroats
|
Meanwhile, back in the now,
|
Got a brand new skeleton crew
|
On the move out
|
When they aren¡¯t manning thirty burning cannons stern and bow
|
they are prying shiny metals out your m-m-m-mouth
|
|
Okay, youth wanes old age holler wisdom n disease
|
like the scurvy made his yellow gums bleed.
|
And he was aching from his boots to the feather in his cap
|
'til his quartermaster 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, seashells in his hand
|
And nary a high tide so grand
|
it¡¯s the one that put the one that put
|
the lady of the lake on dry la-la-la-land
|
|
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 outta water.
|
No lie, scout¡¯s honor, got a million more
|
from the burgundy lighting above the shores of whores
|
before your delusions of grandeur go to swell those sails
|
remember that dead men tell no t-t-t-tales
|
|
walk the plank into the sea
|
splash
|
|
-----------------
|
The Harbor Is Yours
|
| Aesop Rock |
