uma história fantástica e delirante para cantar ao longo de noites de flat sea
'twas on the good ship venus,
by christ you should have seen us,
the figurehead was a whore in bed,
and the mast was the captain's penis.
frigging in the rigging,
wanking on the planking,
masturbating on the grating,
there's fuck all else to do.
the captain's wife was mabel,
whenever she was able,
She gave the crew their daily screw,
upon the galley table,
the cabin boy's name was kipper,
a cunning little nipper,
he lined his ass with broken glass,
and circumcised the skipper.
the ladies of the nation
arose in indignation,
they stuffed his bum with chewing gum,
a smart retaliation.
the ship's dog's name was rover,
we fairly bowled him over,
(the whole crew did him over,)
we ground and ground that faithful hound,
from singapore to dover.
the first mate's name was hopper,
by christ, he had a whopper,
twice round his neck, once round the deck,
and up his ass for a stopper.
the captain's randy daughter,
she fell into the water,
delighted squeals revealed that eels,
had found her sexual quarter.
'twas on the china station,
To roars of approbation,
we sunk a junk with a load of spunk,
by mutual masturbation.
the second mate's name was carter,
by God, he was a farter,
when the wind wouldn't blow and the ship wouldn't go,
we'd get carter the farter to start her.
the cook whose name was freeman,
he was a dirty demon,
he served the crew with menstrual stew,
and foreskins fried in semen.
the captain of that lugger,
by christ, he was a bugger,
he wasn't fit to shovel shit,
from one ship to another.
the third mate's name was wiggun,
by god, he had a big 'un,
we bashed that cock with lump of rock
for friggin in the riggin.
the next mate's name was andy,
by god, that man was randy,
we boiled his bum in red-hot rum,
for coming in the brandy.
the fourth mate's name was morgan,
a homosexual gorgon,
a dozen crow in rows could pose,
upon his sexual organ,
on the trip to buenos aires,
we rogered all the fairies,
we got the syph at tenneriffe,
and a dose of clap in the canaries.
another cook was o'mally,
he didn't dilly dally,
he shot his bolt with a hell of a jolt,
and whitewashed half the galley.
the captain was elated,
the crew investigated,
the found some sand in his prostrate gland,
he had to be castrated.
another mate's name was paul,
he only had one ball,
but with that cracker he'd roll terbaccer,
around the cabin wall.
the boatswain's name was lester,
he was a hymen tester,
through hymens thick he'd shove his prick
and leave it there to fester.
the engineer was mctavish,
and young girls he did ravish,
his missing tool's at istanbul,
He was a trifle lavish.
a homo was the purser,
he couldn't have been warser,
with all the crew he had a screw,
until they yelled, "oh, no sir."
'twas in the adriatic,
where the water's almost static,
the rise and fall of arse and ball,
was almost automatic.
the ship's cat's name was hippy,
his hole was black and shitty,
but shit or not it had a twat,
the captain showed no pity.
so now we end this serial,
through sheer lack of material,
we wish you luck and freedom from