The Ballad of Saint Red-Beard
By Will Ritter

Saint Red-Beard was a grizzly man
Whose teeth were black; whose hide was tan,
He swore worse than sailors, Hey ho
Sailed better than whalers, Hey hey,
And when he cruised into port all the citizens ran.

Why, y’ might ask, do I call him a saint?
Did he rescue an orphan from fever or faint?
Did he give to the poor? Hey ho?
Or lend salve to the sore? Hey hey?
Nay! That aint Red-Beard’s style, it aint.

One day while his vessel was at a good clip,
Red-Beard paused for maraudin’ a poor merchant’s ship
He knew the routine cold, Hey ho,
Take the women, wine and gold, Hey hey,
But this time the pirate made a grave, careless slip.

He’d grown swaggering smug in his pirating years
And an arrogant grin made its way to his ears
He swung to their deck, Hey ho
Golden chains ‘round his neck, Hey hey,
Stylish boots on his feet, yelling insults and jeers.

Th’ deck was a clutter of gun smoke and steel.
Th’ shudder of battle shook the ship to the keel
Th’ deck felt his feet, Hey ho
And the arrogant beat, Hey hey,
Of that footwear, purloined from the king of Tangere.

He wished to be dreaded, but also revered,
So he bellowed that his name should be awfully feared.
He stepped up high to boast, Hey ho,
But a cannon faced his post, Hey hey,
Saint Red-Beard was gone when the smoke had all cleared.

Saint Red Beard had been wholly vaporized
Leaving only those boots, so highly prized
He was sent to his grave, Hey ho
Being foolishly brave, Hey hey,
And that’s how Red-Beard was canonized.

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