Old Bloopbeard's Tale

'Twas five past the turn on a ghost's annum hand
And nineteen o' September were clawin' from East
When a freebooter spirit plundered me lub o' the land
And I traded all in for a jolly sea-faring beast

With a mess o' picaroons, blackjack to the sky
A wannion for adventure and barrels o' grog filled high
Turned dungbie to the shore, my furner an' me
Jettisoned the land and chose a seven course meal of seas

Weren't long afore we opened our account
Raping and pillaging and burning villages
Looting ourselves a gigantic amount

'Til amongst our booty we did discover
A piece of a map and then another
A red X marked the dream our minds pondered
And so it set the path our ship wandered

Upon that we were seekin', the new-found greed we'd adopted
Homed like it were a beacon, and so our scuttlebutt we concocted
Of a sheltered cove and an island far off Barbados
And nineteen paces abaft a rotten tree
Three feet o' sand and then a chest packed thick with crusadoes
Nothin' to belay me triumph short of mutiny

A thought digested too soon
For I found me self at the sharp mercy o' them picaroons
The chest were big but their eyes were bigger
And the idea of fair share made them snigger
Off the plank, marooned, and without a blade too
So Old Bloopbeard grew

Score and then some days, scavenging for morsels in dismay
'Til somehow I hornswoggled Davy, my charm the only bait
And Lady Luck patched a much needed salmagundi 'pon me plate
A new friend whose name were long
forgot, a derelict washed in from afar
Dragging enough rags to follow the stars

With a wooden leg of a rudder
I pointed abut a half-blind course
In search of more significant shores
Something worthy of bein' a landlubber for

Beached within a week, to a new home I did retreat
Wired to the jungle of copper and concrete
A pirate reborn, for the old pirate were dead
Now I keelhaul gigabytes through the tubes
Sailing digital torrents instead