Call The Coastguard There's A Galley Slave Here Poem by Mark Heathcote

Did anyone scupper the slave, galleon?
Is there anybody out there left alive to save
Can you raise your soul's white flag?
Ooh… call the coastguard there's a galley slave
Here sinking fast, without a trace. Ooh… about to drown with you.

Ooh… She's got braided kelp hair of gold
She's a pirate's treasure in his hold…
Her skin is as soft as warmed tanned Spanish leather
If he can only rescue her …Ooh …Ooh…
She'll return her love back to him. Twenty fold.

Ten sheets to the wind….
She'll keep out the cold.
And maybe even rescue his drowning soul
And return his love back… twenty fold.