The Belly-Ache Rum, is the result of the editor drinking a but too much Kraken Rum, and not feeling so well afterwards. I'm a long time fan of the The Longest Johns and their humorous sea shanties. I hope this offering tickles your bellies.
The Belly-Ache Rum (Lyrics and arrangement)
Genre: Pirate Shanty, Sea Shanties, Folk Rock, Celtic Punk
Instruments: Accordion, Fiddle, Stomp-Clap Rhythm, Acoustic Guitar, Rowdy Male Chorus
Tempo: Fast, Upbeat, Bouncing 6/8 time
Mood: Humorous, Rowdy, Gritty, Drunken
[Intro] [Rowdy tavern laughter, stomping boots, energetic accordion riff] [Shout] Heave ho, you miserable dogs! Pass the bucket!
[Verse 1] We sailed out of port with a barrel of slime, The hardtack has weevils that dance to the time! The salt pork is green and the butter is gray, And half of the crew’s running bowels all day! Old Barnaby’s doubled right over the rail, A-spraying the deck like a spouting blue whale!
[Chorus] Oh, it’s heaving and puking and scratching our hides, A-rocking and rolling on miserable tides! With the belly-ache rum and the bugs in the bed, We’re wishing the captain would shoot us all dead! Hey! Yo-ho, let the foul breezes blow, We’re rotting away down below!
[Verse 2] We paid twenty groats for a jug full of rot, Distilled from swamp water and boiled in a pot! It burns off your liver, it rots out your tongue, And tastes like the bilge of a pig with the lung! One swig makes you spin till you fall on your face, Then you wake in a puddle of shame and disgrace!
[Chorus] Oh, it’s heaving and puking and scratching our hides, A-rocking and rolling on miserable tides! With the belly-ache rum and the bugs in the bed, We’re wishing the captain would shoot us all dead! Hey! Yo-ho, let the foul breezes blow, We’re rotting away down below!
[Bridge] [Fast fiddle solo, stomping accelerates] Now the maiden in Tortuga seemed mighty fine, Till I woke with an itch in me breeches line! They’re marching in battalions, they’re holding the fort, The lively little crabs that we carried from port! A-scratching, a-clawing, we’re dancing a jig, Tearing our britches right off of the rig!
[Verse 3] The ocean is rolling, the storm’s turning black, The dysentery hits with a double attack! You’re green in the gills and you're clutching your gut, While trying to keep the back hatch tightly shut! You can’t reach the bucket, you can't reach the side, So you surrender to God and you ride with the tide!
[Chorus] [All voices shouting loudly in harmony] Oh, it’s heaving and puking and scratching our hides, A-rocking and rolling on miserable tides! With the belly-ache rum and the bugs in the bed, We’re wishing the captain would shoot us all dead! Hey! Yo-ho, let the foul breezes blow, We’re rotting away down below!
[Outro] [Slowing tempo, groaning, fading stomps] Pass the rum... no, pass the bucket... A plague take this blasted ship! [Loud splash, groan] [End]
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