Gollywobbler, Futtock, Fother and Fandangle* O’Neal Gollywobbler, Futtock, Fother and Fandangle Were taken aboard, all in a tangle. The Gollywobbler was the first to awake And did a falling down double-two-take; The Futtock lay on the deck, quite still, Feeling sore all over and dreadfully ill; The Fother simply did not give a hoot, Although he’d been kicked by a seaman’s boot; Last of all was the funny Fandangle Trying to walk in a hopeless tangle. Round and green was the fat Gollywobbler, With a head as red as a cherry cobbler; The Futtock was square as a building block, But his mind was as sharp as that of John Locke; The Fother was considerably bent: He’d been born in a hydrothermal vent; The Fandangle, shaped like a right triangle, Had the curly hair of a cockerspangle. In the foc’sle were the captain and crew, All of whom wore just one left shoe. The captain was a big ugly hunk Who could hardly get in and out of his bunk. His rough and tough mate was a bitter pill; That’s why they called him Barnacle Bill. The cook was a dwarf from the Philippines Who couldn’t even boil a tin of beans. The seamen were a laidback scruffy bunch, And now that I think of it, I’ve got a hunch: They were sick of the cook’s awful three meals Of burnt glockenspiel and underdone eels; The sailors were bored with being at sea, And were glad to have such odd company; So they said to the very peculiar foursome Let’s get it on with ten bottles of rum. The captain opined, It’s a mighty long trip, Don’t any of you try to give us the slip; The mate relaxed and said with a smile, We’ll all get along if you’ll stay awhile;
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