Here’s the version that Ronnie Barker came up with, plus a couple of verses I added to pad it out a bit (note A part and B part of the tune once only):

He’s a naval man, you can tell it by his walk
He’s a naval man, when you listen to him talk
And the drunken things he’ll utter, as he’s lying in the gutter
You can bet your bread and butter, he’s a naval man.
If he reeks of rum and winkles, he’s a naval man
If his kit bag’s full of wrinkles, he’s a naval man
If he hums a saucy ditty, and he tells you that you’re pretty
You can bet your Bristol City, he’s a naval man.

He’s a naval man, of the ocean going sort
He’s a naval man with a girl in every port
You will see him grab and hug her, and then take her on his lugger
He’s a dirty rotten bosun, he’s a naval man.
If he takes you in his rowboat on the Serpentine
And he tries to get his hand upon your Plimsoll Line
If he grabs you without warning, you can bet the skin you’re born in
You’ll be scuppered in the morning, he’s a naval man.

He’s a naval man, and as wanton as they come
He’s a naval man, and he loves his tot of rum
When he’s had his daily ration, just beware his seaman’s passion
Lest you learn the Bristol fashion, he’s a naval man.
If he tells you he’s a captain, and he works for Cunard
You can tell him that we all do in that regard
But he’s probably just a coxon, so ladies keep your frocks on
You can bet he’ll keep his socks on, he’s a naval man.

He’s a naval man, and he certainly is no gent
He’s a naval man, with a nautical like bent
Any bottle he can swig it, any vessel he can rig it
Packet, smack or frigate, he’s a naval man.
If he promises exotic spices, silk and sugar
He is not what he appears, but a thieving little buccaneer
If he takes you on his tanker, and he tries to weigh his anchor
Don’t trust the wayward warrior, he’s a naval man.