This crew I am stuck with is completely insane,
But I still pop open a crisp bottle of champagne.
We seem confused and stranded on shaky boats unsure,
But is there a difference between the right way and the detour?
I may not like every sailor and pirate onboard,
Some appear to have brought a pistol and sword.
My liking means nothing to my choice of fully loving,
Even when those with swords keep pushing and shoving.
I am not so different from those harsh and violent ones,
I am not so different from any of the sea’s daughters or sons.