I miss my trusty Kris Kraft
That itsy bitsy skiff
The topsiders and chinos
Freshly pressed and stiff

And sometimes when I'm landlocked
And yearning for the sea
I get into my bathtub
Indulge my reverie

For the quickest silver
Low-key’s or O.P
We look so very civilized
In shocking pink and green

And what about the beach club
On Wednesday afternoon
The ladies clucking lowly
Like enemy platoons

One, two, three, go