There he stands.
So sad, so glum.
He has that damned Midwatch
On Security Post One.
He can't smoke
And coffee he can't drink.
So, what does he do?
Just stands there and thinks.
He thinks of many things.
Especially about how
He would like to sleep
Or eat some chow.
He thinks of tomorrow
And the future too
As he stands that damned Midwatch
With nothing to do.
Well, two hours gone
And two to go.
He sure hopes his relief
Knows when to show.
He guards the missle house
With a watchful eye.
He doesn't gripe.
He doesn't cry.
After three hours,
He tries in vain
To keep himself
From going insane.
After four long hours
Of an endless wait,
That damned relief
Will likely be late.
One thing for sure,
He had better check his watch
And relieve me on time
From this damned lonely Midwatch.