Sunday, 14 March 2010


Give me the good sense, O’ God,
Though I am most useless of the blokes,
To see sense in First Lady’s plans,
And to laugh at my Captain’s jokes.

I too want to rise, my Lord,
I too want to belong.
I want to be in tune with times,
I surely can’t do no wrong.

I too have visions of me, my Lord,
To up to the highest reach;
In the interim, I don’t mind,
To be called a worm, snake or leech.

To reach the highest of high, my Lord,
I don’t mind stooping so low,
As to kill my individuality,
And to say “yes”, when I mean “no”.

The only creed I have, my Lord,
Is my love for the blue oceans,
And somehow to make my own thoughts,
In sync with my CinC’s emotions!

I know that day won’t be far,
When I stand to get my just reward,
When everyone’d finally realize,
That I’ve really worked very hard!

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