I’ll tell you the Ballad of Cleese and Reese,
the famous pirates of the Northern Seas.
They used to get on together with ease.
Hookers, plunder, and sails in salty breeze,
that was their life, their daily bread and cheese.
Yet one day this badass friendship just ceased
to exist because of one silly tease.
It was Leggy Marla, a bride for lease,
who made our friends turn to sworn enemies.
She promised her love to both Reese and Cleese.
When they realized, put some elbow grease,
to win her big heart, her eyes green like peas,
her white skinny legs, and her Golden Fleece.
Fair play is useless, that one rival sees,
so he takes his gun and loads some lead bees.
But the other man just says: “Oh, bitch, please,
it’s not me, it’s you, who shall rest in peace.”
Both friends fight to death in their thirty-threes,
and in the end one ends up on his knees.
The loser starts to beg: “Please, hear my pleas…”
the victor grabs his neck, needs just to squeeze.
When the deed is done, with just one last wheeze
the dead man’s body falls down to dust, frees
his sinful soul to hell, then starts to freeze.
Mercury says that’s minus ten degrees.
While the other friend on the body pees,
Marla’s in a church, in front of a priest.
A rich gull’s wedding and follow-up feast,
the hooker’s social rank’s gonna increase.
But the pirate bursts there and shouts: “Arr, Jeez,
I’m gonna shake your heads like you were geese.”
Haunted by the guilt of the killing sleaze,
he hangs himself on one of nearby trees.
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