Pack your bags, we're going on a guilt trip!

Yes, I am a pirate, two hundred years to late. Cannons don't thunder, there's nothing to plunder, I'm an over forty victim of fate.

Nothing to show but this brand new tattoo. But it's a real beauty, a Mexican cutie, how it got here I haven't a clue.

It was too much Tequila, or not quite enough.

Under the heavens and under the sea there's a friend I don't know, who holds the right key.

I was suppose to be a Jesuit priest or a naval academy graduate.

Some make the world go round; others watch it turn.