The pirate of Pickletown, Buccaneer Bob,
was never too clever, or good at his job.
You couldn’t quite call him a competent crook.
He hadn’t a peg leg, an eye patch, or hook.

He didn’t look fearsome. He never said, “Aarrrr!”
He had no tattoos, nor a beard, nor a scar.
He didn’t have crossbones or skulls on his hat.
His parrot was scared away, thanks to his cat.

Since Buccaneer Bob never learned how to sail,
his ship was as slow as a slumbering snail.
He never found out how to plunder or steal.
He never hauled enemies under the keel.

His ship had no anchor, no flag, and no plank.
The chest for his treasure? His pink piggy bank.
There weren’t many jewels or gems he could find.
The booty he sat on was just his behind.

And no one was frightened, since Buccaneer Bob
had no ships to hijack or people to rob.
And that’s how it looks like it always will be,
since Pickletown’s far, far away from the sea.