“General quarters!  General quarters!
All hands on deck man your battle stations!”
The general orders to those now cornered
by a red sea of condemnation!

 

Without hesitation I head to the radio shack
noticing around me there’s no hurry at all,
it’s just a trick amid a ship forever black
time to play because duty calls!

 

Having sailed upon the ocean’s equator
soon greeted by Davy Jones to cross the line,
on hands and knees at the feet of a dictator
King Neptune dispelled my pride.

 

Eating the morning’s “green eggs and ham”
I noticed the color of something kind of odd,
wearing my skivvies outside of my pants
beneath a red sun shining abroad.

 

Suddenly sprayed with the ship’s fire hose
unexpectedly as I liberally spoke my disdain,
it filled my mouth, my ears and my nose
hoping they won’t do that shit again!

 

Fellow Pollywogs crawled on bended knees
whose subtle pleas meant nothing to the host,
spreading our faces in a belly full of grease
upon a stomach bigger than most!