In Miami, the pirate called Keid Eridanus,
danced with such violence, such menace, such malice.
according to lore; he explored and he roared,
all through his jungle. He never did rest.
but when lethargic August rolled in the sun,
Keid stopped and he cried; "My Love has begun! She is the One."
for the curious, spurious, Princess of Sirius,
had flown in with the easterly wind, Mirzam and Procyon.
She said; this is the locket, in a felt box,
wrapped in gold paper, in a chest with a lock.
it's hidden, it's secret. It's written - you'll keep it.
The Pirate, god bless him, he tried everything to open her heart,
so that she could sing,
her song of freedom from her broken kingdom.
He took her aboard his ancient ship,
he made her laugh with his quick wit,
he wined and he dined, almost losing his mind,
for she never gave in, she never gave him the key.
you cannot be coarse, for it cannot be forced.
you cannot cut, this Gordian Knot.
The Pirate, frustrated, his rage culminated
into liquid erruption.
He begged and he wept, he wrote letters of depth
but with his violence, her song had gone silent.
Eight full moons passed, he thought he'd lost her at last,
then one day they met, she was full of regret, she couldn't deny, what she felt inside,
his fascination with life, gave her inspirational highs,
his high ambition, sparked her life's ignition...
I miss you Mish.