You run a hard hand over the scurves beneath you,
I always appreciated your way with navigation and dead reckoning see through,
but you lost sight when you couldn't see through a knave,
She didn't have the lost map,
I gave it to my British slave.
You're not as cold as I thought, so from here on out: I've got my own bloody crew that I have to worry about.
You're good -- too good to be left alive with your own vessel,
So my only choice left is to leave your ship shipwrecked and utterly crippled.