Old Bloopbeard's Tale

'Twas five past the turn on a ghost's annum hand
 And nineteen o' September were clawin' from East
 When a freebooter spirit plundered me lub o' the land
 And I traded all in for a jolly sea-faring beast
 With a mess o' picaroons, blackjack to the sky
 A wannion for adventure and barrels o' grog filled high
 Turned dungbie to the shore, my furner an' me
 Jettisoned the land and chose a seven course meal of seas
 Weren't long afore we opened our account
 Raping and pillaging and burning villages
 Looting ourselves a gigantic amount
 'Til amongst our booty we did discover
 A piece of a map and then another
 A red X marked the dream our minds pondered
 And so it set the path our ship wandered
 Upon that we were seekin', the new-found greed we'd adopted
 Homed like it were a beacon, and so our scuttlebutt we concocted
 Of a sheltered cove and an island far off Barbados
 And nineteen paces abaft a rotten tree
 Three feet o' sand and then a chest packed thick with crusadoes
 Nothin' to belay me triumph short of mutiny
 A thought digested too soon
 For I found me self at the sharp mercy o' them picaroons
 The chest were big but their eyes were bigger
 And the idea of fair share made them snigger
 Off the plank, marooned, and without a blade too
 So Old Bloopbeard grew
 Score and then some days, scavenging for morsels in dismay
 'Til somehow I hornswoggled Davy, my charm the only bait
 And Lady Luck patched a much needed salmagundi 'pon me plate
 A new friend whose name were long
 forgot, a derelict washed in from afar
 Dragging enough rags to follow the stars
 With a wooden leg of a rudder
 I pointed abut a half-blind course
 In search of more significant shores
 Something worthy of bein' a landlubber for
 Beached within a week, to a new home I did retreat
 Wired to the jungle of copper and concrete
 A pirate reborn, for the old pirate were dead
 Now I keelhaul gigabytes through the tubes
 Sailing digital torrents instead