That’s about six years old. Both long hair and facial hair are gone. Silly facial hair grown for Halloween, a magnificent Regency swordsman’s get up. I may have had a great floppy hat as well. Arrr.
Well, you know…
Captain, What Be Arrrr Headin' Now
Avast me hearties! I’ve been swipin’ the booty from this scurvy site:
Well t’streets have been swept, And t’leaves have all washed away,
And I find meself stumblin’, On somethin’ I’m tryin’t’say.
Ahoy! t’breathin’ has stopped, But t’hair keeps on growin’,
T’anchor’s been dropped, But t’crew keeps on rowin’,
Captain, what be our headin’ now?
Just t’echo remains, Of t’refraino’a splice t’mainbraceen song.
That I spent all me days, Trainin’ parrots t’sin’ along.
Now thar’s some kindo’answer, Bein’ demandedo’us.
But tonight be infected, I guess we should squeeze out t’pus.
Yeah thar’s dust on t’rules, Of this game we’re tryin’t’play.
So I can’t tell if I’m gettin’ closer, Or farther away.
Oh, where be you at? And where be you goin’?
T’wind doesn’t answer, It just keeps on blowin’.
Arrrrr!
(That be the Peg Leg Jason Weblevich shantey, “Captain, What Be Arrrr Headin’ Now“)