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Tommy Beavitt
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Caryatida
Caryatida
To bring a floozy on a ship is not so frigging mellow：
A working ship is no place for a broad.
And no-one even knew from which unsavoury bordello
Our captain brought that tart of his aboard.
To bring a floozy on a ship, it makes us all feel bearish
Whichever way you look at it, it stinks!
It's almost frigging certain that we're all about to perish,
But at least the ship's more handsome as she sinks!
Our jolly roger's ripped to shreds,
We're hanging out along the galley-way
Sitting idle's never any good for pirates' heads,
What's he doing with that woman anyway?
As a stiffening southwesterly swells out our burgeoning sails,
Each corsair's face now tells a different story.
Set beneath our bowsprit now, she's dancing with the whales,
On her account, we're bound for death or glory.
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She's become the shining symbol of our faith and of our hope,
She's carrying our fortune on her cranium,
In salty spray her plaits of hair turn white like coils of rope
Caryatida bears down on the mighty ocean!
They may have blades of shining steel
But we are not concerned about our rivals.
To a man, we're ready, just in front of her to kneel
Her oestrus makes us safe from all reprisals!
No longer any holding back – if we could be just be faster!
To chase down, board and captivate our prey.
To die in battle's better than to serve a brutal master.
We catch the wind! We leap into the fray! Hey!
The dead were buried in the bay,
Then, anchor cast, ashore to all get boozy.
But I still can't quite understand just how we won the day,
After all, on board the ship, we had a floozy!
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