And my nigh made the general blink,
And they pull like twin bats fresh from Hades,
And they’re quick as a demimonde’s wink.
Oh, it’s often I’m late at formations,
And it’s taps I completely disdain.
And my bunk, it brings tears from the captain,
And the cooties are at me again.
But when there’s a piece in the mire,
With her muzzle just rimming the muck,
Then it’s hustle for me and my beauties—