Longsense

Longsense, aye, yer voice raises yer cap'n like a bloody Lazarus, aye, like the codpiece of an ornery youth what puts into bay after long travail 'pon the salty tumult, a seafarer, aye, an exile 'pon tide & tumble. What tales I've yet to tell ye, to tell ye all who waited 'pon the knocking for the truth to unfurl, aye, as smoke does, the ghost from the cannon's roar. I've tales, laddies, 'pon me word, I've tales to tell. Now I be wary from wind & word, lads, but I'll be hasty with me return, ere another two months fall o'er the cusp o' oblivion...