LETTERS HOME
PIRATES KNOW NOT WOE
I have not succumb to worry and woe, For the heart is not tended to thus so; While the sea salt may weather the rocks ashore, ere will be constant stillness and trouble no more.
I look to the North and follow a course, Where thus does the sea fairing soul go; I am tied to the mast, this will become the past And to sail again will be so.
For as variant as the waters they be, I refuse to allow a troubled sea; To take joy and peace from me.
No I will not be thieved of notable gain, Or allow there to be an ounce of pain; For I’ll acknowledge trouble as the ripple it is And rechart my course again and again!