The Ballad of Red-Eye Leonard

Gather close ye sorry souls and wet your throats with sin. For I'll spin

ye the yarn of Red-Eye Leonard, the sea's own pride and kin.

. He sailed with a grin, no iron flame,

a master of wind and foam. Said the sea bend low to kiss his name

and beg him not to roam. With a tankard raised in the tavern roared,

he bragged 'til stars did weep. "Ne'er a gale nor god can best old me.

I, I command the deep." Sing, lads,

sing. Let the thunder peel. Hey! Hoist and haul