Aboard this airship of rigging and iron,
A wrecked vessel of steam and gunpowder,
We are pirates of the stratosphere,
Scorching a tyrannical smile across the skies,
Spying our next lost mark,
Our next banquet of blood and swag,

Amidst cranking gears and screeching pistons,
Both vessel and crew are shrouded in man-made fog,
Half-mad and mostly intoxicated,
We are heavily armed corvids of crime,
Come to pick clean the iron bones of helpless shipping,
Errantly the pilot guns the behemoths engine,

So load you brass pistol,
Fasten your goggles,
Brandish your hungering cutlass,
And take this rope,
Swing onwards to glory and riches,
Or a hundred mile drop to oblivion.

Comments
  1. johnlmalone says:

    I love the steam-punkness of this 🙂

  2. Carol anne says:

    Awesome! I love this! ❤

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