A Rat's Sea Chanty

c. Matthew Kaplin 11/13/2002

As you might guess, I makes me mess

Where sailors eat their soup,

'cause every port's a peephole,

And the deck is where I poop.

I eats their beef and biscuit,

An' I give them back me fleas.

A rat's an 'appy sailor on the seas!

The beef and pork are salted,

That they carry on the ships.

Sometimes a seaman sees me

And I see him lick his lips.

He wants me in a frying pan,

But dying's not for me.

A rat's an 'appy sailor on the seas!

I've seen the sailors flogged across

The muzzle of a gun.

To ease their pain they'd guzzle

From a bottle labeled "Rum."

I puzzled till I drank me some

And wobbled at the knees.

A rat's an 'appy sailor on the seas.

Sometimes I find a puddle

And it's salty when I drink.

I know the ship's been scuttled,

And I know it's going to sink.

I know it's time to cuddle up

In what will float with ease.

A rat's an 'appy sailor on the seas!

Someday I know I'll breathe my last

And visit Davy Jones.

I'll swim and find me mates

And we'll go search for sailors' bones.

We'll steal the rings from fingers,

And pile them up like peas.

A rat's an 'appy sailor on the seas.

Written on St John 2002