Rum Is Me Throne

提示詞

[Intro] [creaking ship timbers, waves slapping the hull] [tavern chatter, mugs clink] [Spoken Word, slurred] Oi... OI! Shut yer fuckin' gobs, ye scurvy barnacles... hic... Cap'n's gonna sing... [Verse 1] [slurred, swaying] Ohhh I sailed from Port Pickle wi' a barrel o' rotgut brew, An' a parrot named Gerald who... who... hic... who fuckin' knew? The compass says north but the compass is a LYIN' wee shite, So I'm steerin' by moonlight an'... an' cryin' like a bitch through the night... [Chorus] [crew stomping and shouting along, rowdy] HEAVE ho, the deck won't stay still! HEAVE ho, I'm pissed as hell an' king o' the hill! Pour me one more an' I'll... I'll find me way home, 'Cause the sea is me mother an' the rum is me... hic... fuckin' throne! [Verse 2] [rushing, words tumbling over each other] Now I buried me treasure on a beach made o' sand, Or was it a cake? I don't... don't fuckin' understand! I drew me a map but I drew the shite on bread, An' Gerald the parrot... [mumbled] ...the greedy bastard ate it instead. [Bridge] [suddenly weepy, slow, voice cracking] Gerald... why, Gerald... sniff... Ye were me first mate... me only mate, ye feathery prick... [long pause] [belch] [suddenly cheerful, shouting] ANY-FUCKIN'-WAY! [Chorus] [crew louder, out of time, mugs banging] HEAVE ho, the deck won't stay still! HEAVE ho, I'm pissed as hell an' king o' the hill! Pour me one more an' I'll... I'll find me way home, 'Cause the sea is me mother an' the rum is me... hic... fuckin' throne! [Outro] [Spoken Word, slowing down, drowsy] The moon's stealin' me ship again, lads... I can see 'er, the thievin' cow... Somebody... somebody stop the bitch... [yawns] [snoring] Zzzzhhhh... hrrnnk... zzzzhhh... [waves fade, one last mug clink] Want a version that leans more into nautical vulgarity ("bilge-suckin'", "salt-crusted arse") or one that keeps the swearing but stays family-safe-ish for a singalong crowd?