For to long, I haven't felt the sun on my face,
for to long, food has turned to ash in my mouth,
I feel like I've been parched of thirst, and haven't died,
nor have I felt the warmth of a woman's touch,
I haven't felt the sting of pain,
Nor the cool breeze on my face,
Nor the spray of the sea,
My sails are damned,
and it's to the depths for me,
at least to the abyss of Davy Jones' locker,
the oblivion of hell,
under unforgiving waters.
-Inspired by the motin picture
Pirates of the Carribbean.
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