Ah you young 'uns can laugh, but Oiv'e been in places where the whole audience went down with yellow jack, and the ground was heaving, and the guitar strings were thicker than hose pipes - and not an intellituner in sight.

What'll we do Captain? What'll we do Cap'n, asked the crew

Why Black Dog, theres only one thing for it Mr Hands, its desperate strait we're becalmed on a lee shore and its goin' to blow up a hurricane

Every man to his station and we'll play the Wild Rover all night, these buggers won't notice. If it gets rough, we'll hold the course, or its keel haulin' for the lot of you...

Afterwards when we sent a deputation with the black spot for the pieces of eight, the bloke said, You're not free for Patrick's night by any chance?