Rather than "The Boy Stood On the Burning Deck", this one from my dad:

The boy stood in the banquet hall
When all but he had fled
He'd finished off the cakes and jam
And nearly done the bread.

"This is my thirteenth cup of tea!"
He cried in accents wild
"Just one more crust, before I ****"
He was a vulgar child.

There came a burst of thunder sound
The boy, oh where was he?
Just ask the maids who swept him up
All cakes, and jam, and tea.