When wicked waters lap upon the shore;
And coral lighting flashes in the sky;
If chills arrive upon a distant roar;
It’s safe to say a pirate ship is nigh.
Twenty thousand leagues have frothed with tales;
Of butchers, rogues and demon ne’er do wells;
Vessels powered by skinned and bloodied sails;
Killers ripping through the ocean’s swell.
Bodies! bloody bodies! hooks and rum!
They’re coming for your village off the coast!
So tell your wives and children now, to run!
The tender ones they tend to hurt the most.
Wait!! Thursday night might be your saving grace:
They’re too distracted, watching RuPaul’s Drag Race.