Often as the ship would sway
due to high winds off the Chesapeake Bay
Pete would disapear did seem
that he would hide aft of the beam
Tough as leather, a sailors tale
he was swallowed once by a killer whale
and he oft ate plank when rations were low
when he got a hang nail, he clipped his whole toe
So why is he no where to be found
when the going is tough he is no where around
and so I hid in the Quarterdeck row
just to find out where exactly he'd go
and just exactly what he'd do
and I can't keep a secret so I'm gonna tell you
Long about four we were hoisting the jib
I heard that our Pete told a little white fib
he told the first mate he was feeling right frail
then excusing himself walked to the genoa sail
and hiding I watched in my stillness a hush
as Parakeet Pete took his paint and his brush
and rendered the sky and the mast
with such skill
I thought what a shame that he had to fake ill.
And it is no secret what secrets we keep
when as artists we worry so we don't say a peep
that in being a "maker" a "drawer" a "poet"
we love it but hate to let anyone know it.
And I thought of the secrets that other's have hid
I assumed so much worse that Parakeet did.
But it's easier roughing the highest of seas
than being creative with a public to please.