Sailing the briny seas,
the winds taking us where they please.

A parrot on my shoulder,
"Pieces of eight," it repeats over and over.

If there is mutiny in the ranks,
aye matey, they will walk the plank.

Other ships we will plunder for gold
and any prisoner we will stick in the hold.

A treasure map we have found,
X marks the spot on the ground.

And once we have found the treasure chest,
we will sail off into the sunset.

ALesiach © 11/08/2014