I stood upon the good, wood deck

Aways off the Azores

On high, high-seas with a saucy breeze

And the lubbers on all fours.

When St Elmo flared and ‘gulfed the poop

And me head was fit to burst

And I found meself way underground

With me protons all reversed.

They stared at me in unbelief

As their shiny kit pulsated

And backed away in some affray

Like my ma with the Devil had mated.

At last one cried in half my tongue

“What are you, and whence come?”

To which, roared I, from my score stone

Know ye! I am Higgs – Boatswain!