Tankards up, lads, thrice bang the table!
Thresher Thurruk prowls the tide!

Thresher Thurruk tramp stamps terror 'cross the Tapoan track tonight,

Tide and tar and teeth of spite!

Tipsy, he tears at Tuar's torches, twirls his trident, taunts the light,

Tide and tar and teeth of spite!

Ten bold traders tethered tight, thought to tempt him with their tin,

Tarry fools, he took the lot, tossed their ledgers to the wind!

Treasure trunks now tumble, thudding on his teak-plank deck,

Trinkets, tokens, twisted rings, a tax for travelling wrecks!

Targossian trumpets threaten, talk of torches, talk of war,

Thurruk tips his tricorne, yawns, then turns to taproom lore!

Tales of tavern tumbleweed, he trades for tartlet pies,

Toast him then, you timid lot, before the Thresher flies!

Tankards up, lads, thrice bang the table!
Thresher Thurruk prowls the tide!

Penned by my hand on the 25th of Phaestian, in the year 981 AF.