Shiver my timbers,
you're as old as the seas.
You're no longer limber,
and you have creaky knees.
You huff and you puff,
you gasp and you wheeze.
You feel mangy and bony
and full of fleas.
You huddle below deck
in all kinds of weather.
Your memory is shot,
gone like a feather.
The old pirate Time has plundered
and turned you to leather.
But don't walk the plank.
You're still a treasure!