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