THE OLE SHIP
A good ole ship was Serviss,
An’ she bore a good ole crew,
Who certainly knew their business,
An’ were sailors through an’ through.
A’ course it may be said
That some went on the spree,
An’ some waz rather toughish,
But sech will always be
On sech a ship as Serviss,
Which took a power o’ hands
To manage her ole cranky ways
An’ take her chief’s commands.
Course Serviss wer’n’t no man o’ war;
But just a good ole tub,
Slow, and comfortable, an’ sure;
A ship as you could dub
A utilitarian craft;
Not puttin’ on much style,
Good fer what intended,
Carryin’ things mercantile.
We had good average times, we had,
With pay the whole year round;
Orficers not too crusty
An’ in grub an’ grog well found;
An’ we’d a been so ’til this day
If we’d had enough sense
To know when we waz well off,
But we waz somewhat dense.
An’ bites like a lot of suckers
At a scheme of some smart guys
To petition our ole capting
To start an’ reorganize—
To give us uniforms to wear
An’ drill us like marines,
An’ polish us an’ make us smart
Like a lot o’ bally machines.
An’ our ole capting he agrees
That we needs reorganization,
An’ I bets he smiles to hisself
As he sets in contemplation.
The fust thing ole capting orders
Is a general inspection,
An’ he stops our grog an’ pay
Fer the most ornary deflection.
An’ when he gets through with us,
I tell ye, s’elp me bob,
There waz forty-seven sailor men
A lookin’ fer a job;
An’ the rest of us was busy
A polishin’ Serviss up,
An’ never gettin’ a bit o’ rest
Except to sleep an’ sup.
An’ a slob what objected,
Or attempted to resist,
He got a good rope’s ending
An’ had irons on his wrist.
So don’t go fer to ask o’ me
What I thinks o’ reorganization;
Cause I’ve been through the game
An’ know it beats tarnation.