Drinking Rum On A Dead Woman’s Chest

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Drinking rum on a dead woman’s chest

Callin’ me a bloody castaway

Pinkerton’s got me pinned down

Her love will never last past today

Flirting with the cigarette girl

Danced on my heart, now I’m pierced

I aim to stand tall, down to the last drop

Her beauty was deliberate & fierce

Always looking for something between

Usually a billfold, other times the sheets

She wanted the last of the big time spenders

Not often won, though seldom beat

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You Know The Type

You know the type

Running off to sail the oceans

Claiming to be a dread pirate

Wishing for some sort of motion

A stagnant life killing the soul

Truth is, he only ever wanted to be with you

This is the life chosen, so time to live

Easy to forget the water’s real hue

The World Is Changing

A Re-Post with a new audio recording attached.

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The world is changing
We’re redefining sexiness of sorts
I don’t need all those buckles & straps
I can’t help but devour you in those boy shorts
I feel like a pirate with that booty
Making sure I get a firm grip
Can’t keep my hands off you
Damn woman, you’ve sunk my battleship

*previously published on former blog

Poseur Punks Stealing My Traditions

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Poseur punks stealing my traditions

Though they never earned the right

You cannot reappropriate a feeling

They’ve never been adrift under a starry night

These kids’ empty hearts & endless expectations

I left the sweat of my brow upon the sea

With too many of my nights away from home

In an entitled world; duty means a lot to me

Sometimes I’m An Awkward Lover

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Sometimes I’m an awkward lover

I try to slap your ass & pull your hair

But I don’t always have confidence

But I’m doing my very best down there

But I can promise you one thing, dear

I will love you and only you forevermore

I may be a gentleman at public events

But I’ll be your pirate behind locked doors

Reading The Braille Edition Of A Topless Sextant

 

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Reading the Braille edition of a topless sextant
Borderland sailors lost again above the tree line
Vicious handwriting left you pretty & potent
Dainty cherries plucked from Guerneville’s vine
Coffeehouse grunge wiped clean in your hands
Uninitiated lives failing to stand so fast & sure
Entitlements marked against your vacant lands
Discarded notes burned to return fresh & pure
Mermaids & alehouses swollen in a vamp rain
Self-imposed heartbreak mistaken for the blues
Trying to remember names of those who remain
Cautiously awaiting your new high-heeled muse
Writing a memoir regarding a nurse he skirted
Astral units left you with dingy change to spare
Noting the good stock with which she flirted
Winning the hearts, but the minds did not care
All your dreams left tied to the evening bedpost
Those rosy cheeks, offering you up a silent peek
Locked her in the room, staying white as a ghost
Mocking all the love & affection you still seek
Fingers toy with the scarf tied around her waist
The bard’s meaning left bewildering & obscured
Untied & left it hanging, waiting for your taste
Knowing your future holds your heart immured
Dedicated your words to the love of a woman
Sailing away from her, wiping away your tears
Too many free nights with the dark star to damn
Return trip bound by the change of distant years
Pressed into servicing you under the water tower
Releasing me to retreat & now be fallen asunder
Bathed atop the crow’s nest in a summer shower
Her loose dress allowed an easy chance to plunder
Busted in a brothel by shipmates on shore patrol
Her liberty cuffs showing us a full view of the bay
Wharf rats continuing down the hill out of control
Your Elizabethan Towers blocking the dreary day
Frayed hair in a yellowish hue flowing out & over
Dry rot found along our real estate, but I digressed
That Golden Gate shadowing my four-leaf clover
I’m lucky enough to find you had freshly undressed
Pirates full of malarkey & rum out in the shipyards
It was rot gut that ruined me & not rotten planks
He returned to port to find her old life now charred
Rising sun shines upon new beauty & I give thanks

Sitting With Pirates & Thieves

 

Sitting with pirates & thieves

But you’re wandering about the old oak tree

You know you can never go home

Wishing for a life when you weren’t so free

You sold your precious soul

But there’s nothing left to retrieve

You’ll spend your ending days

Dying with those pirates & thieves

This Pirate Is An Old Wives’ Tale 

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This Pirate is an old wives’ tale

Passed on by sorority sisters these days

Mythical pleasure & infatuation –

Fluttering love; let them count the ways

World renowned for his nautical exploits

But not true they were all naughty

Legends told of a bad boy untrue, for

That infamous passion belongs to only one hottie