Barracks Life

Son, you haven't really experienced life, (And it will surely make you pine for a wife!), Until you are thrust into noisy open-bay coops, With fifty other snorting and snoring troops! The sergeants demand that things be just right. Bunks must be made with blankets smooth and tight! Clothes must be hung straight and boots shined to a glow, And all your shoes lined under your bunk in a row! As the bugle at early dawn is blown, Fifty guys rush to the latrine as if chased by a cyclone, All vying at once for a place at the sink, Because the line gets long as quick as a wink! You're invited to a GI party on Friday nights without miss, But this is no occasion for a cool beer and socializing, this! On hands and knees with a GI brush in hand, You'll be scrubbing and waxing until the floor is grand! Saturday you'll stand by your bunk for a white-glove inspection, The eagle-eyed captain checking everything demanding perfection! If dust he discovers you'll receive reams and reams of demerits! Forget the weekend pass - you'll be on KP peeling taters and carrots!