Captain’s Pondering

Once I sat
Pondering a bit inquisitively
Arr these thugs bad?
Or arr they merely mean?
Ha, for none arr clean
And scrape ribs for fun.
Smiling as draining they lose
Another to their gun
But laughing in drink
And snickering I think
Of wenches and dinks
Ha, they arrn’t bad
And they still arrn’t clean
But the bastards they slain
Are in bad shape indeed.