In the muddy waters of the marsh sat the decaying old boat,
While Captain Kharon stood ashore accessing its ability to float.
Rolling two coins in his rough and rugged now oar-less hands,
He searched his resourceful mind for any possible alternate plans.
But the wicked sinners knew the ferryman had little choice,
Smiling they played on the waterfront and sought to rejoice.
The River Styx is shut down, the old seaman said at last,
If I were you schmucks I’d get the hell out of here fast.