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Friday, 18 November 2011

Those Press-Ganged Days

Those Press-gang Days

Did they ever give a shit?
If they lived or died
They couldn’t vote till twenty-one
Press-ganged into khaki suits
State murder, the end for some

The establishment
The monarch, the dross
Leaching preaching
Blue blooded pricks
The scum of Britain
These spineless gits

This worthless tripe
Of the upper crust
Imprisoned young men
For a two-year stay
As cannon fodder
For empire wars
Expendable lads of
National Service days

No human rights
Or sparse dignity
A mule to kick
The beast of prey
Some young lads 
Died for these gits
Blue-blooded
Fucking inbred idiots

Palestine, the Jewish war
NS boys died by the score
Malaya’s jungles of death
Vote-less young men perished

From Kenya and Cyprus
To the hot Arab States
NS boys gave up their life
To feed that sick dream
The status quo for
Empire and Queen

Aden and Suez
The NS have fought
Spilt their blood
In far away wars
Expendable life
On foreign shores

The Falklands
Was the Maggots war?
All regular soldiers
For National Service
Is no more

But never ending
Is the need for blood?
The Gulf, one and two
The Balkans have

Taken our “brave lads”

So blue bloods can keep
The life that they have

For black gold
Or Texas Tea
The wealth of others
These arseholes do thieve

Fuck them all, give the poxy politician a fucking gun
And let him/her fight the wars they create




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