Hands Maid in the Royal Navy

Whenever I board my new ship,

I must find my way around,

And my first important mission,

Is where the cameras can be found?

I find the man with the repair duty,

And team up with that lucky hand,

Get his detailed blindspot knowledge,

Let him know the lay of my land.

No time for a soft new friend,

Our absence must not be noted,

My mouth will offer his reward 

And my tonsils should end well coated.

And if we have a minute to spare,

Dirty fingers will find me so moist,

Delved into my commando style,

A little taster menu to be choiced.

So with the secret venues selected,

Another happy cruise about to sail,

Where I begin to spread my reputation,

And my legs for any to entail.

Bent over machinery and searing pipes,

My crewmates can test their mettle,

Hard and fast as the seas allow,

To leave us both in steamy fettle.

And I love returning to my station,

Trying to disguise my state of flush,

While my portholes are breaching,

And the swell of a seaman gush.

My uniform may bear witness,

To the suspiciously damp stains,

Blamed upon vigorous swabbing,

To avoid hearing executive complains.

Wives and girlfriends don't need to worry,

They are not going to fall in love,

They can just use me over and over,

Until English skies are back above.

And do I demean my female colleagues,

And the traditions of fleet and crown?

Or am I just a modern sea nymph,

Oh, the old Duke would surely never frown!