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| All the lucky sevens IRL 7777 |
Me an me ole' shipmates r' gettin ready o' cast ye lines an rais de jb, hank d'main an put de tiller aherd oer fr de open ocean. Tis Panama tha do be callin' an aferdat sure d'ole Isles d'Galapagos and yonder the lost 'orizen of d'greate Pacific. Maybee tahiti r' a wee atol benamed Apataki is awaitin' us. Tis bound for Brisbane in de new worlde we ar, wit a cargo o'trouble n'fun.
Sure sixe wil depart an' heavens allowin tis the lucky 7 will arrive, as one O'de crew 'as gotten 'erself in a biteen O trouble, de poor lass.
Dis crew is a rhum lot; 'katcha' d'gaally slave... a bad prize oer a worse bet.
'conrad d'curr' anoer moud ta feed on a stormy nite, does d'bow e' sayes.. arse-I-saye.
Aye, an den ders 'kenny d'kursed', a uselessfeck kursed be d lick O' d rhum.
De ships 'hore is a finee big wench good on d'winch too, spits o' d'sprats.. na'er a boder on her, she do be d'un in a bit O trouble.. agin'.
Der do bee a blackfella on d'helm, may d'Lord save us all..
Sure if we a'er arrive anywere, we may sea ya der.
Capt'n davywavey
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