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T'was
the night before Christmas
and all the the Corps
Not a sole had liberty,
the troops were all sore.
Yes, every
Marine
every Marine in the lot
was lying on a rack of nails
called a Marine Corps Cot.
When out
on the Parade Deck
I heard such a clatter,
I sprang from my cot
to see what the hell was the matter.
With bayonet
in hand
I moved stealthily to the door
I cautiously waited to see
if there were more.
Yes, it was
the Commandant of Marines
this there was no doubt
he was wearing his poncho
green side out.
He carefully
moved from rack to rack
he cautiously inspected each rifle and pack
to a chosen few a 96 chit
but to the majority a ration of s*it
As he pulled
away in his gold plated tank
pulled by ten colonels all bucking for rank
I heard him say, and he said with a shout
Merry Christmas you suckers you'll never get out.
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