Words of the Constant
Aye. Me home is'tha sea.
Ol' Woodlegs cuts a fine figure.
Some sort o' block an'tackle.
'Tis 'arpoons.
Color'd beach pebbles.
Woodlegs don't care fer rules.
A flag o' some sort.
Argh! Who's this bilge rat?
A life preserver.
Thar's a fine mizzenmast.
Thar's a fine mizzenmast.
Only a deed to a 'ouse, not a ship.
Arrrr ye serious?
'Tis a giant eyeball.
A poor sky vessel.
Na good fer na'thin'.
Me rooms be headin' fer a careenin'.
'Tis no more.
Th'bush needs some shuteye.
Ye won't be much use ta Woodlegs.
Thet'll not be comin' back fer some time.
Aye, 'tis a truly wondrous item.
Aye, 'tis a truly wondrous item.
Thet be lookin like a pile o'treasures.
Now Woodlegs' got'tha upp'r hand!
'Tis fer foolin' tha'pigs.
Thar is nary a whiff of treasure nearby.
She'll help ol'Woodlegs sniff out treasures.
Whar be th'treasures?!
Take Woodlegs ta th'treasures!
Woodlegs be closing in!
Aye, 'tis a mystery.
'Tis a keyhole.
Thar she goes!
Thet rod be treasure.
Th'fin o'a sea beast.
'Tis th'work of a madman.
'Tis a stupid lookin bird.
'Tis a tiny dumb bird.
'Tis a free meal!
Yer would-be goose is cooked!
'Tis useless.
'Tis a bird sail.
'Tis a bird home.
Take Woodlegs ta yer tresures!
'Tis keepin me treasures safe n'sound.
'Tis full o'awe!
Ye'll make a fine meal.
Ye need a home in th'ground.
'Tis treasure a pie.