Oh let me tell yea
Thus is the morning I once had on a trip
to Never Ever Land, El Dorado in Santiago

and the sun melted the tip of my tongue to taste Rome
and the gladiators brawling noise was a sure test of manhood

for the roaring boys I hefted my winterbelt inside the box
locked behind the nethermost cabin in the dockside brothel barn

traps secured the trophy there and every single body searched everywhere else I’ve found a treasure bigger, was the lowland albino snigger that cursed like a tossing dog from hell bewitched by a lunacy spell

“Aye! You folly cushat had a pigeonhole as narrow as the pit through it!”

And at every mooring me stumbled out of bed there was a song on deck calling out for “Heads or tails!” and at 5 glass toll “Beds or nails!”

...