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Lyrics
Gather 'round, ye scallywags, and douse the binnacle light,
I’ll spinning ye a yarn to freeze your marrow in the night.
Of a mountain of a man with a heart of jagged stone,
The devil’s own first cousin, known as hulking Bobby Bones.
He stood seven cubits high with a chest like a rum-soaked tun,
And a face so foul and scarred it could eclipse the midday sun.
With a cutlass forged in brimstone and a fist of knotted oak,
He’d snap a lubber’s backbone just to see the crimson soak.
He sailed the Widow’s Ransom through the Roaring Forties’ spray,
Where he’d keelhulled half the starboard watch before the break of day.
He’d no need for a cat-o-nine to keep the crew in check,
For his roar could crack the mainmast and leave splinters on the deck.
He’d drink a gallon of navy neat and never blink an eye,
Then toss the empty flagon where the cabin boys would lie.
No parley would he offer, and no quarter would he give,
‘Twas a miracle of Neptune that he let a witness live.
But the greed of Bobby Bones, it grew as heavy as his stride,
He sought the Sunken Ledger where the ghost-gold used to hide.
In the Eye of the Abyss, where the churning waters swell,
He steered his ship and crew right through the gaping gates of hell.
The Kraken rose to greet him, with a beak of iron black,
But Bobby grabbed a tentacle and broke the monster’s back!
Yet the sea, she don’t like winners, and she pulled the Ransom deep,
To the locker where the wicked and the weary go to sleep.
Now they say when storms are brewing and the sky turns bruised and gray,
You can hear a ghostly bellows drifting 'cross the foaming bay.
It’s the phantom, Bobby Bones, still a-cursing at the stars,
With a chest of rusted doubloons and a face of spectral scars.
He’s the king of all the shipwrecked, with a throne of bleached-white ribs,
Lurking in the darkness where the hungry merman glibs.
So keep your hatches battened and your prayers in steady tones,
Lest you meet the heavy shadow of the wicked Bobby Bones
Details
GeneratedMar 5, 2026
Duration3:31
LanguageEnglish
Style
Gritty folk sea shanty, gravelly baritone male vocal, rhythmic stomp & clap, dark nautical ballad, 18th century style.
Credits
Prompt by
HamCheck
HamCheckModelAria v5
