I inherited an old run down shotgun  shack
In a South Florida town
From an Uncle I had no idea I had
He never came around

It was the shed out back that held my interest
Filled with memories, dust, and spider webs
Was I just being adventurous
Or was I being led

Opposite the door in the corner stood a ceder chest
Covered over in a layer of dust
The latch and lock lay on the dirt floor
Long ago succumbed to rust

The inside was filled with pirate writings
Which you know is a poets dream
No maps of hidden treasures
But hidden treasures all the same

I took to those pirate writings
Like an angry moth takes to flame
Drawn in close like his life depends
On the wave of heat it brings

Page after page of high sea adventures
And far off exotic lands
I spent that afternoon well into the night dreaming
With pirate treasure held in my hands

I don't know how long it was I'd been asleep
When I woke up to a dust filtered light
Shining through a broken windowpane
In the shed where I'd spent the night

But I really spent it on the high open seas
And in far off exotic lands
Where when it gets back around to evening time
With pirate writings I plan to go again