The Creation of Geneva

(or one Sailors viewpoint)


When God was designing creation,

And laying out oceans and sands,

With never a moments relaxation;

Not even to spit on is hands.


As every one will do in a hurry,

He let things go now and then.

In all the excitement and worry

He should have done it over again.


So rather than mess up the outfit

He saved every blunder and blob

And laid them away in a corner

To use at the end of the job.


On the sixth afternoon of the contract

His time would expire that day

He boiled out the dregs of creation

And shoved the litter away.


He gathered the wreckage and junk,

The scum and sewage and sump

And built by the Five Finger Lakes

This great International Dump.


He rushed things then in a hurry

And because of the hurry he was in

He named the place Geneva,

And Geneva it has always been.


Then feeling gloomy and sarcastic,

Because it was Saturday night,

He picked out he nastiest corner

And named it Kirkwood for spite.


It's there that they do things backwards

And the street doesn't dry between rains,

Where money and high prices are plenty,

And thievery is better than brains.


It's the home of the 4-f's and slackers,

The buzzards and mud colored crows,

My strongest impression of Geneva

I received through the tip of my nose.


It's the land of infernal odor

The town of International smell

The average American sailor would

Rather be quartered in Hell.


So, it's back to God's country for yours truly,

Though I'm not wishing anyone ill;

Geneva can go hang for all I care

And I really hope that she will.


Yes, it's back to God's country

For a sadder but wiser chap,

For the Lord played a joke on mankind,

When he put Geneva on the map.

(and he's not kidding)


Probably written by Richard Hayes, who was stationed at Sampson during WWII.

Donated by his niece