HOME, BOYS, HOME (Navy Version)



Man, born of woman, was a sailor for to be

He's born to degradation in every degree

Of guard mounts and gun drills, he never has his ease

He has so many masters that he don't know whom to please



Home, boys, home, it's home we ought to be

Home, boys, home, in God's country

The oak and the ash and the weeping willow tree

Oh we're strong for the Navy, but it's home we ought to be



Go to the captain if you want to get away

Off on leave for a month or a day

Write out your request, he'll sign it if he can

You can go away and not come back, he doesn't give a damn



Go to the Executive if you want to get a boat

To visit some friends on some other ship afloat

He gives you the wherry, you can pull it like a man

You can take a boat and drown yourself, he doesn't give a damn



Go to the Chief if you want to get some speed

He shuts down the shower bath and turns it into feed

You ring up three turns faster, and the ship ahead you ram

The Chief he gave you twenty and he doesn't give a damn



Go to the First Lieutenant if you want a piece of wood

A keg of nails or steamer, and be it understood

Each one you see has a different little plan

It's down on the card index and he doesn't give a damn



Go to the Navigator if you want to get a chart

He'll give it to you from the bottom of his heart

And if the ship you run aground or into docks you ram

The chart's "corrected up to date," he doesn't give a damn



The Navigator takes a sight and works a little sum

"We're fifty miles away," says he, "My sextant's on the bum"

The Engineer says, "Never fear, although we're salted up

We'll add another turn or two and make the fifty up"



Go to the Paymaster if you want to draw some pay

He sits down and figures it out to a day

He hands you the money with a careless sort of slam

The money doesn't belong to him, he doesn't give a damn



Go to the Bos'n if you want to get some rope

Some whiteline, some small stuff, some spun yarn, or soap

He measures it exactly and weighs it in his hand

You can take the rope and hang yourself, he doesn't give a damn



Go to the Captain of Marines if you want a sentry

To station on the quarter-deck or officer's country

He drinks up all your booze, with the change his pockets cram

The Captain takes a drink himself and doesn't give a damn



Go to the Gunner if you want to get a gun

And he'll give it to you if he's only got one

You sign a little slip just as meek as a lamb

And you can go and shoot yourself, he doesn't give a damn



You go to the Doctor, you feel mighty ill

The Doctor looks you over, he gives you a pill

Then if you die, they break out the band

The Doctor's done his duty and he doesn't give a damn



The Commissary Officer and Signal Officer too

The ship's cook, the jack o' the dust and the whole damn crew

Will be right behind the skipper even though we head for Hell

They know that if he's ordered there, he'll answer, "Very well"



Go to the Chaplain if you feel you're going to die

He'll teach you how to beat the game and live up in the sky

He'll whitewash your record just as clear as any lamb

We'll all go to Heaven, so we don't give a damn.



from The Book of Navy Songs, collected by the Trident Society,

1943.

see also AMBLETN

@tree @sailor

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