Words of the Constant
Headed for Davey Jones' Locker!
Thar b'no treasure t'be had inside.
Arr, 'tis'a shame.
Already gotme 'at!
'tas been scuttl'd!
Ripe fer th'plunder.
'Tis ablaze!
T'ward off th'scurvy.
Goin' down!
Fer tha tinkerin' about me ship.
T'were not me!
I be'in need o'tha piratin' gear.
Keep walkin'.
Tells no tales.
Thievin' scoundr'l.
Grabbin' some shuteye.
Aye, 'tis a useful brood.
Thar's gold in thar!
Th'seed o'th'tree.
Grow inta ship wood me sweet.
'Tis a pirate's life, even in death.
Yo-ho-ho!
Me thought me lost thet!
What a shame.
She looks great in thet hat.
Can I be diggin' treasures wit' this?
Tougher than me pirate hat.
A suspect meat.
Cooked it up, I did.
Can Woodlegs eat it?
Waitin' and waitin'.
Arr, she's ready!
Too hot fer her wee roots.
Has tha look o'tha iron sail to 'er.
Avast ye! 'Tis afire!
A main deck fer'tha land.
Ol' Woodlegs prefers tha'seas.
Bricks be not good fer buildin'a ship.
Bricks be not good fer buildin'a ship.
I've built m'own ship. I ken handle this.
I've built m'own ship. I ken handle this.
These ol' bones could still build.
These ol' bones could still build s'methin'.
Like buildin'a brigantine.
Like buildin'a brigantine.
I miss m'crew fer tha hard labor jobs.
I miss m'crew fer tha hard labor jobs.
Stone be not good fer buildin'a ship.
Stone be not good fer buildin'a ship.
Argh. I'll put me shipbuildin' skills t'work.