The colonel’s hamming up the bonhomie,

The President spits bile for all to see,

The regimental parakeet is shot,

A corporal is cleaning up the lot.

 

Stand to attention, don’t bother thinking;

Get back to the trenches, cold and stinking.

Gleaming new tanks make the battlefield shake,

Flattening its residue in their wake.

 

We’ve got more weapons, let’s pick a new toy;

Take out the enemy and jump for joy.

Never mind the bodies, forget the dead;

Pray you remain with the living instead.

 

The horror, the pity, the shame, the mud,

The nighttime drones crashing down with a thud;

The brutes and the bullies are getting near,

Sit back and watch and thank God you’re not here.