The Good Ship PSC

It was back in the fall of '86,
my force as hard as it could be.
I signed up for a ten-year hitch
crewing the good ship PSC

The Captain, he was a dark one,
with the brows of a pirate bold
But my story, it's a stark one
the saddest tale I've ever told

When we met to plot our course,
instead of charts and an urgent voice
We each whipped out our force
and the biggest made the choice!

This way we sailed for years;
the fastest ship of the line.
And thus confounded the seers
who gave us but a rabbit's time!

Of First Mates we had a few,
one hurt, one walked the plank.
But we always had a topnotch crew,
and they're the ones to thank.

We went where none had gone before,
seeking out strange new lands
Until we could no more ignore
the Lords of Insufficient Funds

And those who had mouths to feed,
had gathered from East and West
Sought ships with a crewing need
to do what they thought was best

What of the three harbour whores?
Our friends when times were good.
They of the slippy, slimy mores?
Long gone from the neighbourhood.

So was all our work in vain?
Will our sails make tinkers' rags?
Or will we to the Spanish Main
under cover of Foreign flags?

So attend carefully when I tell you,
'though my voice be thick with remorse.
Don't listen to those who would sell you
that a man is measured by his force!