What shall we do with this wretched mustache
Growing on my lip like an errant eyelash?
Is it not enough that I’m having a hot flash
Early in the morning?
Way-hay, my temperature rises
Way-hay, my temperature rises
Way-hay, my temperature rises
Early in the morning
Yank it by the roots with a silver tweezer
Or grow it long and wax it like some old geezer
Get used to kids calling you “Ebenezer”
Early in the morning
Come all ye fine women that follows the sea
(With a wait, hey, where’d I put my grog down?)
Now please pay attention and listen to me
(Give me some time, where’d I set that grog down?)
The brain fog will get ye once ye hit the five-oh
(With a wait, hey, where’d I put my grog down?)
You’ll say “starboard” for “larboard,” confuse “aft” and “bow”
(Give me some time, where’d I set that grog down?)
There will be days at sea when ye can’t e’en recall
(With a wait, hey, where’d I put my grog down?)
Why it is that ye stepped in the larder at all
(Give me some time, where’d I set that grog down?)
When a trim Black Ball liner’s preparing for sea
And the craving for sugar is eating at ye
(Snack away, oh my ladies, snack away)
Cut that jib,
Have a blueberry cheese blintz
Hoist that sail,
Snarf a sleeve of Thin Mints
Furl that mizzen,
Take a break for Cracker Jack
Swab that deck,
Spread Nutella on your hardtack.
Make sure as you sail, whether east, north or south
To stock up on things you can cram in your mouth
(Snack away, oh my ladies, snack away)
I’m just an old salt, and I’ve been far and yon
Hey ho, a-boom-alay
There’s nary a schooner I’ve not sailed upon
The body I had, a-gone-away.
You young lady sailors, so taut and so strong
Hey ho, a-billy-o
Should I cover my gray, or is that just wrong?
Hey ho, my boobs-so-low.
Am I vain if I visit that Botox place?
Hey ho, a-boom-a-lack
Or is that considered self-care for my face?
Hey ho, oh-my-aching-back.
Is this hat cool and quirky, if I wear it aslant?
Hey ho, hurrup, hurrup
Or does it just look like I’m someone’s weird aunt?
Knelt on the deck, now-I-can’t-get-back-up.
When the Alabama’s keel was laid
Roll Alabama, roll
They laid her keel at Birkenhead
Oh, roll Alabama …
I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS CRAP, THE CROWN IS ON.