Chillin' on the ship, swabbin' the poopdeck. Suddenly have the urge to thrash
and wreak you neck
Call up the cap’n, ask if you can rock. The silly bildgerat yells now «Go pack the food stock!»
Feeling like the scurvy has really got you down. Hoping for some meat now,
even if it’s ground
With only chum in sight and no urge to chomp, gather 'round the crew,
its time to fucking stomp!
Do the peg leg stomp!
Hook for a hand, a bit 'o wood for a leg. And people wounder why pirates always
tap the keg!
If you were missing limbs, you’d be pissed too. So drink and mosh and drink and
thrash, and then we run you through!
Feeling like that scurvy has really got you down. Hoping for some metal,
the fastest shred around!
With only sea in sight and this really itchy rash, gather 'round the crew,
it’s time to fucking thrash!