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The Zong of the Isle

Hershel Ingram
Elias Pembleton III
The Avid Perfectonist

Oh gather round me bully boys!
For a tale of Mutton Isle
Of RNG and devil-girls
And a mask that’s really vile!

The horse that rides a bicycle
A well that’s not (so) swell
The wheels they clack mechanical
And the wounds the zailors quell

The mayors come to celebrate!
But Virginia’s only dour
Her hat is threatened by the ‘Lloyd
And she’s done within the hour

A telling of the mayors past!
The mayor in a chair
Feducci never ever showed
And Jenny was quite fair

A vision from the men of Zee!
The Mountain, the lights, the Flukes!
Sample the feast you scallywags!
Accept your newfound dukes

Hop on, and catch a fish me lad!
The fish are sure to bite
And if they hang us out to dry
Set us up some dynamite!

We wait for the lady in the hood
The RNG is hell
The drowned man slowly, slowly stirs
We’ll join them in the well.

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