Words of the Constant
'Tis even better cooked o'er a fire.
Its flesh be prone fer th'takin'.
Arrr thet be th'real treasure.
Just add water.
No hot water?
Brew Woodlegs' coffee!
It needs a spot o'poop.
A crop after me bitter, black heart!
I hope they be comin' back.
It needs a mug o'java ta perk up.
Th'fire be goin'oot.
Th'flames be lickin' th'dark.
I be glad this fire is in a pit and not on me ship.
Th'fire be gettin' low.
Good ta warm me'self by.
Th'fire be out.
Th'fire be goin'oot.
Th'flames be lickin' th'dark.
I be glad this fire is in a pit and not on me ship.
Th'fire be gettin' low.
Good ta warm me'self by.
Th'fire be out.
Ta th'East!
'Tis a compass.
Ta th'North!
Ta th'Nor' East!
Ta th'Nor' West!
Ta th'South!
Ta th'Sou' East!
Ta th'Sou' West!
Ta th'West!
Someone be tryin' t'make a fool of ol'Woodlegs!
Fer buildin' on ta me land ship.
Woodlegs did cook'im good.
'Tis a fine meal.
Thet be bad eatin'.
'Tis but a morsel.
Th'pot be burnt up.
'Tis a slow recipe.
Ye'll be done soon 'nuff.
'Tis ready for eatin'.
Th'pot be empty.
Thet coon dropped is' tail!
This'll tear up a boat right quick!
Not th'most intimidatin' sea monster!
Ye better steer clear, Woodlegs.
Ye can't think yer way outta me pocket.
Th'brains o'th'ocean.
Barely seaworthy.
It be'a poorly ship.