Hop-to!

Fuckin'...get those sea legs on
in a hurry, Miss
I said, I said, I said
get 'em on 'n
maybe that wobble'll
look like you mean it

Fuckin'...work it out, Son
brief me when the whale blows
and wipe the flotsom
out your eye corners

Some's here got work to do
so shelf it
stick that can o' tuna
on a higher shelf
and shove a bright n' shiny
orange down your gullet

Say, ha!

Ha!