| Basic was just like papaw says:
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| «Keep your mouth shut and you’ll be fine»
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| Just another enlisted egg
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| In the bowl for Uncle Sam’s beater
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| When you get to Dam Neck
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| Hear a voice in your head
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| Saying, «my life’s no longer mine»
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| Have you running with some SAD SOG
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| BMF sandeaters
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| Setting out on them high seas
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| Feels just like being born
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| That first port call in Thailand
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| Feels like a pollywog turning nineteen
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| They’ve got king cobras fighting in boxing rings
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| And all the angels play Connect Four
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| Seems like a sailor’s paradise
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| But turns out to be a bad dream
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| Now you hit the ground running in Tokyo
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| From Kawasaki to Ebisu
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| Yokosuka, Yokohama, and Shinjuku
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| Shibuya, Ropongi, and Harajuku
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| Aw, from Pusan and Pohang, Pattaya to Phuket
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| From Singapore to Kuala Lumpur
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| Seen damn near the whole damn world
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| From the inside of a bar
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| I’ve got sea stories
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| They’re all true
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| Might seem a little bit far-fetched
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| But why would I lie to you
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| Memories of ink forever stained
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| Still got salt running through my veins
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| I’ve got sea stories
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| And my shellback, too
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| Sometimes Sirens send a ship off course
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| Horizon gets so hazy
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| Maybe get high, play a little GoldenEye
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| On that old 64
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| And if you get sick and can’t manage the kick
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| And get yourself kicked out the navy
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| You’ll spend the next year trying to score
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| From a futon life raft on the floor
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| And the next fifteen trying to figure out
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| What the hell you did that for
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| But flying high beats dying for lies
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| In a politician’s war |