Arr, I met a fine tavern wench last night!
Wendy was ‘er name and she was a right filthy little one,
Yarr, I’ve never met one as filthy.
I’m all hoarse from ploughing and yarring all night.
What a tight wench she was, oh yes, captain!
Tighter than a ship’s riggin’ and wetter than the seven seas.
Just ripe for a friggin’!
Louder than a cannon, too
And wasn’t shy at talking filthy, either, arr.
She shouted and bellowed like the best of them.
Arr, she was the best tavern wench I’ve ever ‘ad.
Such a pity I have to leave for sea soon.
I’ll just drown me sorrows in a pint of ale,
Served by her. I may even do her behind the bar,
Once more for the sea.
Give her a right good old Jolly Roger!
Fare thee well, Wendy, until we meet again!
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