"Unload!.... safety catch, pouch, magazine off..

(From the range we smell the scoff)

"Clear, ease springs"

The Sergeant sings

Time to queue up at the trough

There's nothing quite like the old 'Range Stew'

Two rounds of bread with a nice hot brew

From the mess tin

I'm not jestin'

Made by chefs who have no clue

Soft boot shuffle with your mate

No place here...

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I am the one you kick cans at as you pass me in the street.

I am the one with the dirty hair and the scruffy clothes.

I am the one you cower from and snarl at as you pass my feet.

I am the one you pretend you can’t hear or blatantly ignore as I mutter ‘Spare change please’.

I was like you once I had a home, a family a smile. Now I have my dog.

I fought for the country ...

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