I stand on the edge of the deck,
With dozens of others, faced
Outwards, each a white-clad speck
When seen from ashore, each braced
In the position of Parade Rest,
As our big gray warship enters port
Flags raised high and fully dressed,
My arms really hurt, as do my knees,
But there's no relief yet, for me, or the rest
Of the sailors, flapping in the breeze.
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