And from his skin we'll make a little drum
To beat as we fire human heads from cannons at our foes,
And set the seas ablaze with burning rum...
I walk a lurching timber world, a reeking salt-caked Hell,
And yet, perhaps, no worse a world than yours,
Where bishops stroll through charnel yards with pomanders to smell,
While vile men thrive and love crawls on all fours.
~~ "The Shanty Of Edward Teach"
Bonus points to the first person who can tell me where I got this...except for