Destroyer Song The boys out in the trenches Have got a lot to say Of the hardships and the sorrows That eome the soldier's way. But we destroyer sailors Would like their company On a couple of trips in our skinny ships, When we put out to sea Chorus: Oh, it's roll and toss And pound and pitch And creak and groan, you son of a bitch. Oh, boy, it's a hell of a life on a destroyer. Oh, Holy Mike, you ought to see How it feels to roll through each degree. The God-damned ships were never meant for sea You carry guns, torpedoes, and ash-cans in a bunch, But the only time you're sure to fire Is when you shoot your lunch. Your food it is tbe navy bean, You hunt the slimy submarine. It's a son-of-a-bitch of a life on a destroyer. We've heard of muddy dug-outs, Of shell holes filled with slime, Of cootie hunts and other things, That fill a soldier's time. But believe me, bo, that's nothing, To what it's like at sea, When the barometer drops And the clinometer hops, And the wind blows dismally. From Songs My Mother Never Taught Me, Niles Copyright The Macaulay Company RG
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