Still tinkering with this one. The 3rd line of the 3rd verse is easier to sing if it's changed:

She's a hungry old rip 'n' she's cruel
To sailor-men like we,
She's made mariners her chosen gruel
Down beneath the sea…
She's got the blood o' them she's lured
'N' the bones of many a wreck,
'N' she's got barnacles a-growin' on her
'N' shark's teeth round her neck…

And here's some rewording for the last verse:

Now you know I've never had no schoolin'
Nor read no books like you,
But I knows 't ain't healthy to be foolin'
With that there gristly crew…
You're young, you thinks, 'n' you're wary,
But if you're to make old bones,
Steer clear, I says, o' Mother Carey,
'N' that there Davy Jones…

Cheerily,
Charley Noble