I’ll tell you the tale of a ship at sail
On the deep blue, briny sea.
The good ship Rapport set out from its port
On the coast of old Dundee.
The crew was robust, and each knew to trust
His mate right down to his bones.
But oh, how they shook when they turned to look
Upon Captain Abraham Jones.
The Captain was fierce, and his gaze seemed to pierce
Each crewman deep into his soul.
His orders would bark through daylight and dark
While his men were on patrol.
He’d not be ignored, his hand on his sword,
And a sneer upon his lip.
Without a delay, the crew would make way
As he walked the deck of the ship.
His moods were diverse. Sometimes he would curse
And rage like a storm on the sea.
By the very next day, he’d smile and pray,
And spend the time sipping his tea.
The crew had no doubt they’d figure it out,
But not one of them had the stones.
Though shaken with fear, they wouldn’t come near
To Captain Abraham Jones.
Now it happened one day the ship went astray,
Becoming most hopelessly lost.
And most of the crew didn’t know what to do
As through the cold waves they were tossed.
Then one man yelled, “Mates! We’re bound to our fates!
This storm has about done us in!”
They all heard a sound, and all turned around
To see Captain Jones there with a grin.
The look in his eye was black as the sky,
And his smile was wide as the bow.
He strode ‘cross the deck with his balance in check,
An insane look crossing his brow.
He noted the sails were tight in the gales,
And the planks of the ship did creak.
He turned to the crew, and said, “All of you
Are relieved. This storm’s not for the weak.”
With the ship’s wheel in hand, he gave the command
That all of the crew were dismissed.
The men, although scared, looked back with teeth bared,
With most of them shaking their fist.
They made their escape, with their mouths all agape,
As they looked to the captain again.
He stood at the wheel, his grip hard as steel,
And gave one more nod to his men.
The Rapport then slid ‘neath the Straits of Madrid,
But only the captain went down.
The crew made their way to the port at the bay
Within old Dundee town.
Sometimes in the night, they wake in a fright
And shiver with nightmarish groans,
For though he is dead, the crew still has a dread
Of Captain Abraham Jones.