by Tariq Muzeer
Oh south of Neverember
Where no one knows how to fly
Is a small town called Saltmarsh
Where budding hopes go to die
Its got sailors, its got dwarves
And food for every diet
Tonight come down to the wharves
And we’ll watch them all riot
We’re not curious
We’re not furious
The spurious we will not receive
Leave Saltmarsh alone or just plain leave
There’s skeletons forming to the north
And troglodytes swarming to the south
And one lonely druid craves the breeze
Hiding there in the last of the trees
Music is for city streets
No sir we don’t have a band
We really like our beaches
Keep our heads deep in the sand
We’re not curious
We’re not furious
The spurious we will not receive
Leave Saltmarsh alone or just plain leave
It’s called the Mere of Dead Men
Though no one seems to know why
The south wall is wide open
In case friends want to stop by
Families moved in ‘cause land is cheap
But the dwarves are only here to mine
Farmers neither sow nor do they reap
Hey! Here come the lizardfolk to dine
We’re not curious
We’re not furious
The spurious we will not receive
Leave Saltmarsh alone or just plain leave
We don’t hear the songs of any cult
And don’t you mention pirates again
There’s no undead and there’s no occult
I’m quite sure that’s not a smugglers den
No doubt everything is fine
Says the mayor with chest bared
Have one more glass of claw wine
And we’ll pretend we’re not scared
We’re not curious
We’re not furious
The spurious we will not receive
Leave Saltmarsh alone or just plain leave
I’m riding the waves on the Sea Ghost
Doing that thing which I love the most
Exploring this mysterious coast
Whoops I missed our port I’m so engrossed
But if night finds me back in Saltmarsh
I know what they’ll say that very eve
I’ll gird myself for those words so harsh:
Leave Saltmarsh alone or just plain leave
Leave Saltmarsh alone or just plain leave.
