Duane Vorhees writes

Francis Drake
My hands are caked and yours are so fine,
but somehow they fit
trim together like ships of the line.
Marry me, oh carry me, sign your name mine:
I'll be Francis Drake and you'll be my Golden Hind.
I'll fill up your hold with all of the gold
that I can find, all of the gold that I can find.
We'll dance naked, if you're so inclined --
just billow our charms,
wrap our sheets round  yardarms entwined.
I'll ride you oh I'll guide you, make your name shine.
I'll be Francis Drake and you'll be my Golden Hind.
I'll fill up your hold with all of the gold that I can find,
I'll fill up your hold with all of the gold,
with all of the gold,
with all of the gold
that I can find.
I'll be Francis Drake and you'll be my Golden Hind.