Miller’s Tale

In Shillingsworth one fateful day
A plan was baked, the people say
To find the hidden Treasure of Peru

The crew, hand picked by Miller Dale
The week he was released from jail
Planned those years he simmered in the stew

November had its coldest day
The crew commenced to sail away
All hands complained, that is, all but a few

Among them was the Salty Geek
He kept his tongue, to never speak
Unless he was addressed or spoken to

The spot was marked with a marlinspike
They sailed the shore ’til it came in sight
A happy restless greed was all they knew

The crew had gaily disembarked
With pick and spade they dug where marked
To a man, it seemed a lifetime dream come true

Then a spade rang hard and all talk stopped
Each knew it was the silver box
When Miller Dale pulled out a 32

The cops they heard the shots that day
Knowing Miller would be back this way
As they lay in wait for him to make his move

They bound him back to jail once more
His murdered crew all on the shore
But one, still on the barque who had eschewed

He found the hole, the silver box
Untouched by Dale, still under lock
Forgotten by the patient boys in blue

The silver box, the Salty Geek
Upon a skiff down at the creek
Slyly floated off to somewhere new

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