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Salty Dick
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Friggin' In the Riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin
Friggin' in the riggin
There's fuck-all else to do.
The captain of the lugger
Was known as a filthy bugger,
Declared unfit to shovel shit
From one pile to another.
The first mate's name was Morgan,
By God, he was a gorgon.
Ten times a day he'd stop to play
Upon the captain's organ.
Friggin' in the riggin
Friggin' in the riggin
There's fuck-all else to do.
The second mate was Hooper,
By God, he was a trooper.
He jerked and jerked until he worked
Himself into a stupor.
The bosun's name was Andy,
By God, he had a dandy.
We crushed his cock upon a rock
For cumming in the brandy.
Friggin' in the riggin
Friggin' in the riggin
There's fuck-all else to do.
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The ship's dog's name was Rover,
We turned the poor thing over,
And ground and ground that faithful hound
From Tenerife to Dover.
While sailing on the ocean,
We often had the notion,
In cold and heat, to beat the meat
With a peculiar motion.
Friggin' in the riggin
Friggin' in the riggin
There's fuck-all else to do.
Becalmed in the Sargasso,
To make the doldrums pass-o,
We launched a spree of buggery
Upon each other's ass-o.
And when we reached our station
Through skillful navigation,
Our ship was sunk in a wave of spunk
From too much masturbation.
Friggin' in the riggin
Friggin' in the riggin
There's fuck-all else to do.
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