by Nick Gisburne
The Barbarous Brigade of Buccaneers
Join forces on a winter's Friday night
For rum and grog and strange, exotic beers.
It's on: the salty shanties, and the fight.
A dozen crabby pirates, past their best,
Assemble, brains bewildered, blind with booze,
To dance around a dead man's treasure chest,
Resplendent in their ludicrous tattoos.
Perhaps a smidge too strenuous for some.
The has-been heroes falter on their feet,
But all it takes is one more round of rum
For every soul to stagger down the street.
A dozen crabby pirates, past their best,
Assemble, brains bewildered, blind with booze,
To dance around a dead man's treasure chest,
Resplendent in their ludicrous tattoos.
Perhaps a smidge too strenuous for some.
Ask any, "Will you come?" However far,
However old, they'll answer, always, "Arrrrr!"
Ask any, "Will you come?" However far,
However old, they'll answer, always, "Arrrrr!"
A dozen crabby pirates, past their best,
Assemble, brains bewildered, blind with booze,
To dance around a dead man's treasure chest,
Resplendent in their ludicrous tattoos.
Perhaps a smidge too strenuous for some.
Resplendent in their ludicrous tattoos.
Ask any, "Will you come?" However far,
However old, they'll answer, always, "Arrrrr!"
Lyrics by Nick Gisburne
Music and vocals created by Suno
Adapted from the poem One More Round of Rum
