Aye, the pirate kings be something to fear
six of them be, best to stay clear
of those captains who have always shown
loyalty to Skull an' Crossbone.

Commodore Pope be the first of the kings
patch on the eye, hand full of rings
wears a red vest and a sword at his side
when he comes to port, it be best just to hide
He builds up the reefs to make up his forts
his flagship Imperial be where he holds his court
she's a ship of the line with a mean row of arms
she murders and maims with a gruesome charm

Old Pope he once was a fine naval commander
his ship was fine, no harm came to her
he served his empire with pride and joy
and many a fleet did he do destroy
He one day grew bored of his whole navy life
cast off his medals, threw 'em aside
only reason he gave for his leave
be the glory and gold he would surely achieve

Prince Mirar, second pirate monarch
pale in the face, ice in the heart
covered in pistols from the head to the toe
men that cross him know only woe
He makes his home in deep dank caves
his flagship Mercy cuts through the waves
said to be faster than any known ship
those who say different get a taste of the whip

Mirar was once a very wealthy man
father a sultan, lord of the land
passed away on a moonless night
Mirar now a king in his very own right
His servants filled his every wish
he ruled his empire with an iron fist
eventually conquered by debt and by wars
plunders what were once his own shores

Jesse Monroe, queen of the sea
third of the lords, that would be she
Carries a cutlass, one in each hand
red leather boots, and hard iron bands
She prowls the seas with hardy confidence
for the Silverjane, no cannon can dent
the dark oaken planks that make up her hull
nor scratch nor splinter or even dull

Once married to a privateer man
the battles were few, life was quite bland
her lover one day met with scrutiny
by the way of the knife and the mutiny
The mutiny did then come to swift end
the murderers hung, and then did begin
the path of the Jolly Roger for Jesse Monroe
who leaves in her path carrion for the crow

Leon Thomas LaSal
Fourth duke of the blue, righteous to all
gold cross on his neck and gentlemen clothes
calm and collected and full of repose
Casting a shadow that does dwarf all
The behemoth Saturn seems like a wall
of wood, iron, nails, and mold
and the plaza-sized cargo hold

LaSal was a man of the Lord
read the good book, never went back on his word
made his large fortune in the spice trade
looked for a way to spend the rest of his days
Pouring his fortune into a new boat
the grandest thing that could still float
the floating city now adrift
for hostile boarding now be it's gift.

Captain Franklin McCloud
Fifth soggy baron with Lady Luck on his bow
commoner clothes and poverty roots
has no need for extravagant suits
His ship that should be on the ocean bed
the Clover seems to come back from the dead
ruined masts and gaping holes
are nothing to damper the modest ship's goals

Franklin had a humble start
small beggar child stealing food from the cart
kidnapped by a ship in need of fresh blood
dragged through the street, through the stone and the mud
Soon after the ship did wreck
only survivor, was mopping the deck
soon become known as the cheater of death
evaded the night with every breath

Bathul Banes the Barbarian
Sixth wet warlord, no other man can
match Bathul's awesome might
or best the savage in a fight
Alone he sails, day and night
In the Anarchy, bathed in cobalt light
St. Elmo's Fire sets heat and flame to
those that dare attack the singular crew

Bathul led a simple life
eating and sleeping, there was no strife
but civilization took it away
with axes and men, they made the trees their prey
The barbarian had then no shelter or home
nowhere to hunt, nowhere to roam
he took the sea as his new grounds
learning the ways of the pirates by leaps and bounds

Beyond the the land, beyond the sea
beyond all that the eye can see
there is an island as old as rhyme
as old as man, as old as time
there exists a castle there
those who enter, beware
seated on his wooden throne
is a man who knows the oceans to be his own
Atop his horde and atop his stash
Sits the man with the gash
across his eye and on his chest
with scars upon his body in every crest
The Pirate Emperor sits here
and all the news reaches his ear
of the kings' work and glory
and he smiles upon the story
of the tale of his six pirate kings
His ship as ageless as the island it resides
dark like Death, the ship hides
in the deepest part of the forgotten land
summoned by the wave of his hand
Sails made from angel wings
The cargo? Unspeakable things
Green mist follows it in it's powerful wake
its waves looking like a terrible snake
crewed by the fallen and the damned
they all still answer to the Imperial Hand
It's cannons are carved are platinum
and perfectly carved cannonballs come from them
Large and long, the ship's form does take
From it's bowels, does it feel hate
The terrible ship with it's regal lodger
Is only known as the Somber Roger