When tales be told round campfires a blazin
Whether true, trumped up or stranger
No one needs rhyme, no one needs reason
Ta bring up the ballad of Limpy McPhanger

The lad was tiny, testy, and often found smelly
Unliked and unwanted the village he’d roam
He’d spit in your eye, or least on yer belly
But spent most of his time kickin sea foam

On the night of a gale, angry and black
The screams they rung out twixt thunder and light
“Oy,” dey cried, “tis a mighty shipwreck!”
One soul clung ta the bow, a wail in the night

Twas too far ta reach, no boat would dare
The men they all lingered, watching their shoes
Try not to judge, they really did care
But who certain death would lightly choose?

Cursin and yappin, Limpy stumped forth
He dove in that ocean, ta swim out as aid
Kickin and paddlin fer all he was worth
But still he was drowned, sure and dead

Some hero, ye might be want ta say
But now no man stands idle in times of danger
Cause they all remember the day
When they was worse cowards than Limpy McPhanger