I'm the Pirate King of the Baltic Run.

Nobody fucks with me.

Those who've tried are bones and skulls

And lie beneath the sea,

Where the little fish, like messengers,

Swim in and out their eyes,

Singing: "Fuck ye not with the Baby Dave

And his Desperate Enterprize.

To escape our knives they'd walk the plank.

Walk it gladly, 'fore we's through.

We would fuck their wives while they splashed and sank.

Then we'd make them walk it, too.

There's a tale that's told of a wat'ry grave,

Where the sleek, fat, singing squid

Carole: "Fuck ye not with the Baby Dave,

That's what these poor assholes did."

For it's yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum,

And a shipload of captives full of come,

And the slick and the evil pirate scum

Of the Desperate Enterprize.

As we hump, hump, hump the unfortunate trick,

And the Good Lord knows we are sick, sick, sick.

They must suck my inventive dick, dick, dick.

Take it all, now. Damn the size.

On the Desperate Enterprize.

On the crazy, moonstruck sea.

You will taste that last, cold kiss of steel,

While the Devil roars with glee.

Singing: "Yo, ho, ho, it's a jolly good show."

From his Throne of Burning Brass.

"God Damn my eyes if the Enterprize

Doesn't show some fucking class!"