We went on down to Galveston to fix a submarine;
The old boat rider told us, she was a sorry sight to see;
He said she needed lots of help - to join him in the fight;
When we took a look at her, we knew that he was right;

It started out just a little trip, to work and have some fun;
But after our first walk through, we had the itch to run;
Then something caught a hold of us - a voice from the deep;
It said to 'keep on working' the voice was from out pride;

A concrete deck caused rust to claim the topside structure steel;
We tore it off with air hammers, the job done with zeal;
Top to bottom, fore and aft, the challenge we could see;
Reverse neglect and change her back to what she used to be;

At first the task seemed futile, with only this small crew;
Finish one job, look around see a thousand to do;
It became a monthly mission, drive down and spend some time;
Cleaning, chipping, painting, and make that old brass shine;

The crew is quite a mixture - they come from far and near;
Most are old ex-bubbleheads who hold tradition very near;
There's other vets and some have never done the military thing;
But all have answered the noble call to fix this submarine;

We can't forget the ladies who have so much to give;
They work hard to give that touch of home to the spaces where we live;
They plan our meals and cook and clean, and that ain't enough;
They'll surprise us with a joke or two, or a dance and strut their stuff;

Why we do this you might ask. The answer's not precise;
For those who tasted battle and risked their very lives;
And for the boys who fought that long and silent secret war;
We honor all to make this boat a secret shining star;

And for our kids - they need to know this boat is not a toy;
We'll teach them it's a valid part of the freedom we enjoy;
For all those old boat riders we hear their silent cry;
We're proud of what we've done here - we can look them in the eye.