Back Out There

By Garland Davis

Running around in these new civilian clothes

Uncomfortable to say the least

Running out of patience, rather I was wearing dungarees

In my dreams I watch them steaming past

Numbers on their bows their identify

I can wish one would slow and take me aboard

Cause in this life ashore only the cars pass

The day is done, would that I could hear “Sweepers”

Meanwhile at sea

Darken ship, red lights are on, the movie soon

Supper is finished; mess deck secured

I see, Sun sinking out low over the bow

Playing games in the Mess and smoking cigarettes

Whiskey waits in another port

Funny the things you thought you’d never miss

In this strange, crazy civilian world

I miss the dolphin escort at the bow

I miss the rush of the flying fish as they flee

I miss being somebody everyone knows there

Everybody knows each other

I miss those Tin Can days

Walking the decks and passageways

The sound of the sonar’s song

Oh, I wish I could go back

Well, I found a girl out there; but we don’t fit in here

It seems so hard to breathe in this civilian world

I need to be where I can see that great Western Ocean

One of these days I’ll pack up and take her back out there

Navy, my world for so many years

Why did it have to end so soon