We humped like monkeys bound for war,
And ev’ry man had a raw, red paw,
Ker-haw, ker-haw,
We beached that tub—and then we saw—
The “Nancy P.,” she’d grown that old,
Her butts had rotted all away.
Her lo’d of planks still jammed the hold,
But we’d left her bottom in Sheepscot bay.
So there we’d made a tumble try
To pump old ’Lantic ocean dry.