As the whole house was shift'n
& rockin',
& we'd run out of many, many staples,
somethin' had to be darn.
No limes,
barely any ice,
some fruit
(it's lookin' at me suspect...),
soda,
bread,
even biscuits for the crew,
Ring's made the intelligent decision to buy us
more Rum,
from the nearest port.
It has placated the Capt'n,
our prisioner's are underdeck,
an' we're runnin' knots.
South-SouthEast, cock
says.
Day's of Rum...
Barbados here we come!
Allya havta do is be part o' the Commonwealth!
I say we share that common-wealth!
Plus there's slaves.
Alway's slaves.
An' I hear
meat & such may
happ'on'us
in 4 past
I'm directly under the Earth's Sun..n..now.
PEACE TO NON-LIMEY'S
UnSquaredance