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.