Marinate...Me?

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© 2005 George Wisser

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Many have been sailors in Uncle Sam's Navy,

That implies not what most people think:

Swims put you too close to the locker of Davy

Jones, down in the depths of the drink.

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The earliest ships, way back when, made of wood,

Most had crews that were mustered by mobs;

They'd take anyone, but choose if they could,

Non-swimmers, who'd not jump ship, poor swabs.

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It took quite a while until we steamed UNDER

The water, not such a great thought;

But with canned air, a periscope, and no major blunder,

You're safe when good targets are sought.

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Orville and Wilbur got us up in the air,

Over water fly patrol planes and Harriers;

As long as they stay dry most sailors don't care,

If they're land based, or serving on carriers.

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On, under, and over: that leaves IN

The water--where you're just a meal,

For a shark with big teeth and rough fins,

...UNLESS you're a crazy that's known as a SEAL!

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