A capital ship for an ocean trip 
Was the Walloping Window Blind. 
No gale that blew dismayed her crew 
Or troubled the captain's mind. 

The man at the wheel was taught to feel 
Contempt for the wildest blow. 
And it often appeared when the weather had cleared 
That he'd been in his bunk below. 

The boatswain's mate was very sedate, 
Yet fond of amusement too; 
And he played hopscotch with the starboard watch 
While the captain tickled the crew. 

And the gunner we had was apparently mad 
For he stood on the cannon's tail, 
And fired salutes in the captain's boots 
In the teeth of a booming gale. 

The captain sat in a commodore's hat 
And dined in a royal way 
On toasted pigs and pickles and figs 
And gummery bread each day. 

But the rest of us ate from an odious plate 
For the food that was given the crew 
Was a number of tons of hot cross buns 
Chopped up with sugar and glue. 

We all felt ill as mariners will 
On a diet that's cheap and rude, 
And the poop deck shook when we dipped the cook 
In a tub of his gluesome food. 

Then nautical pride we laid aside, 
And we cast the vessel ashore 
On the Gulliby Isles, where the Poohpooh smiles 
And the Anagzanders roar. 

Composed of sand was that favored land 
And trimmed in cinnamon straws; 
And pink and blue was the pleasing hue 
Of the Tickletoeteasers claws. 

We climbed to the edge of a sandy ledge 
And soared with the whistling bee, 
And we only stopped at four o'clock 
For a pot of cinnamon tea. 

From dawn to dark, on rubagub bark 
We fed, till we all had grown 
Uncommonly thin. Then a boat blew in 
On a wind from the torriby zone. 

She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, 
And we cheerily put to sea. 
We plotted a course for the Land of Blue Horse, 
Due west 'cross the Peppermint Sea.