The Dread Buttkraken Poem by Mark Walters

This is a sea chanty, sung by hungover pirates; not widely known.

Oh sailors whether near or far
Of Whatever ilk or flag ye be
Though brave and true ye truly are
And dance with death each day at sea

If yer rummy drunk on demon brew
Beware the dread Butt-Kracken
Aye mateys. Now the devil's due,
For on methane he's a snackin

When amidships he starts squeezin
Below yer bellows thunders roll
To the poopdeck ye'll be heavin
As the kracken takes his smelly toll

If you're keen on drinkin spirits
A stench so foul it curdles whey
Grows to gale force when ye near it
Beware, Butt-kraken's found yer way!

Aargh!