'Twas the evening 'fore a trip across the water
I'd arranged a romance with the Squire's daughter
I became apoplectic
Learning she's narcoleptic
The night would become my crewmates' fodder

Pheasant, prunes, turnips, I prepared a feast
Wine from Portugal she didn't care in the least
Of sips she took a few
Yet never got to chew
Before long she was snoring like a beast

Now I hate my life on the open seas
The salty water and dusty decks make me sneeze
All I hoped was a night of bliss
I couldn't even catch a kiss
Instead I got to hear Rip Van Winkle wheeze

Finally she stirred to life, refreshed, awake
We then went to see what shadow puppets we could make
A dog, a bunny, a swan
We laughed 'till the flame was gone
In darkness I found a slumber that could not be fake

Revive, dear Suzanne, revive
Your father will cry harlot
Your maidens' cheeks will flush scarlet
Revive!

I threw the listless body into a carriage
Mentioned the Squire's name and paid the fair-age
In the morrow I return to sea
Sixty men, four monkeys and me
Never getting to know the secrets of marriage