I must go down toward the sea because--
A trope: as a bone I am dry.
Inside a cask is what I'll sip
In the bar called Pirate's Eye.
I'll feel the kick of the strong grog
My hands are now shaking.

I must go down toward the sea because
To my drinking mates I'm allied.
After last call, we love to brawl
Because we are pie-eyed.
Fighting's a task we take—no pay,
Bloodied bodies flying
And flung this way across the room,
Then on the floor lying.

I must go down toward the sea because
My unfragrant tipsy life
Means I don't bathe and I don't shave--
I've been evicted by my wife.
She said, "Go bask with those smarmy bums
Who piss on my rug like Rover.
I'll see you when the court convenes.
This hitch, bitch, is over!"