Lest – lest, pay heed lest

we for-get we are the best;

lose sight of Old England’s story

one of endless power and glory

blood-and-gutsy, primal, gory;

triumph in each foreign land.

 

Might - might, ours by right

just remember might is right!

None surpass the English Army

foes like Hitler – all are barmy

same for Mullah, same for Swami;

Christ is England’s guiding hand.

 

Kill – kill, brave hearts fill!

Candle on a window sill . . .

Each man skilled in naming parts

assorted limbs and misplaced hearts

life that suddenly departs;

a flaming waste – but grand!

 

Soft – soft. Bugler – soft!

Banner hoisted half aloft.

Celebrate the warrior path

raise the young on noble wrath -

mourn it, at the Cenotaph

as - even now - more war is planned.