Our ship was tied up at the pier,
Our watch was all in town,
And I reclined upon a beach
To watch the sun go down.

I see you are a sailor, son,
An old man said to me.
You have the look of someone
Who has spent long days at sea.

I sail aboard a tin can, sir,
I answered him with pride.
We always get the toughest jobs,
And take them all in stride.

I'm in the dungaree Navy, sir.
There's nothing we can't do.
No matter what the job is, sir,
We always see it through.

We're always in the forefront, sir,
Of any battle fought.
We rush right in and fight to win
Without a wasted thought.

For when the battle's raging,
And our line is wearing thin,
The admiral shouts the order:
Send the small boys in!

In war or peace while others rest
We've hardly just begun.
We answer with a hearty, Aye, Aye, sir,
What job do you want done?

So when I go to heaven, sir,
Saint Peter will take my hand,
And offer me a special place,
'Cause I am a tin-can man.


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