The Ballad of Red Skelton

Rest yer bones me own wee lad and let me tell you the tale of a pirate First Mate, bold and strong, and the terrible woes he had.   Red set foot on a Sloop O'War, many moons ago. Wet around the ears and a head full of fights, the sailor's life was not what he thought: work on the ship was a terrible bore.   So Red soon took to singing. He'd enliven his mates while they swabbed the decks, dancing and jigging in hail or shine, 'til they heard the quartermaster's bell ringing.   Red was crafty and he knew the score on deck he'd sing songs of lost loves true, but under their bunks and the en-darkened sky; tales of brave mutineers, pirate kings, and more.   The lads were ready on an icy morn And the quartermaster's bell did Red ring. Over the side did the captain go And their pirate crew was born!   To keep an eye on the men, Red took First Mate. Knowing to keep them in line. Weather permitting and if drink was took he'd sing his songs now and then.   The time flew by, and luck would turn on a dime years and years of sailing true and just as many years of disaster. Red held firm in the life he chose, only settling down from time to time.   50 years old and past his prime, Red's back would buckle with strain. He saw on the horizon a chance to retire and live out his days flush with gold.   The cursed Churlish Crow was propelled by the Devil's Breath. She'd eat other ships up whole; no survivors left to tell their tales, Just stories of men beyond death.   Upon approach the sails were tattered, the helm abandoned. A chill went through the lads, was it fear or determination? They boarded well and stood on deck, nothing but bones to see Red took the wheel, went to stern, but gasped when he moved his hand in.   From his bones his flesh began to drip. From his cheeks it began to peel. His eyes stayed set as his nose fell off, as from his insides his organs began to slip.   And so the curse took on a new crew, long they rode the waves with vigour. But no gold could they take, no ship could they keep, no plunder to steal, their pleasures were so few.   One by one the boys would fall, lifeless bones and then to dust. One day only Red remained One final trick, to seal his fate once and for all.   He cast himself upon the waves and sank to the briney deep. Sure death for a normal man. But Red was now beyond the grave, and for years he was swept by currents strong, the ocean it did reap.   Perhaps today Red still walks the sea floor, or perhaps he rose nearby. Perhaps tonight when in your bed you sleep you'll awake and turn, in the doorway you'll see his single Reddened eye.