Wreck of the Scumby Thooner

In swamy spring did we tithe and tyre
A young man's fortune to the waves
Followed we fortunes fickle and dire
That sent men to their graves

With Gyre and Gimble at my side
Stroth then, this fellowship of three
And struck our course with pride
We set forth t'ward the sea

In Mungy Port had we no sooner
Broke backs to grimful toil and labor
Then docked a ship, the Scumby Thooner
A brutish coursing saber

All precarious and intriguing now
Our futures were soon seeming
This vessel had upon its bow
A maiden with hair streaming

Took we then jobs as men o' the line
To fight for God and Nation
A corsair's life is one that's fine
This was to be our station

Across the sea and down the main
Searched our crew for plunder
'Til in summer off the coast of Spain
Came echoing peals of thunder

'Twas nightfall 'fore the storm did break
And tossed the Scumby Thooner
Debris floated in our wake
And lower rode our schooner

'Neath Heaven our heathen hides
Toiled long into the night
Above Hell we fought against the tides
In hopes to stay our plight

Before the dawn could come to hand
We'd run against a shoal
As wreckage flew, we swam for land
But few men reached the goal

And as pale light broke across the sky
To notes of angelic choir
Standing fast and true we heaved a sigh
Myself and Gimble and Gyre