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