Cruisin’ far out to sea, out of view…
freaking, as on land we couldn’t do.

Here we are freed from stultifying tethers;
we have escaped all the bonds we have weathered.
We got a taste of being free; ahead we’re
cruisin’…flout mores on ocean blue,
doin’ things that are now our purview.

We are unconstrained people out at sea;
we can do things that were once revery.
The Church of England can just suck our feet; we’re
moving to a continent that’s new,
feeling like anyone we can screw.
Yo, ho, ho. Go!

We are going to have lots of fun and play;
no authorities tell us what to say.
We’re going farther, farther from the bay.
It’s so pleasant at sea; time for a sexing spree!
Crewin’ the Mayflower is a hoot.
Mores out at sea have become moot.
So, off we’d go.

Cruisin’,
duds sloughed,
butts/muffs/nuts/busts/struts buffed/stuffed.