When you lying alone in your Afghan bivvy
And your life it depends on some MOD civvie
When your body armour's shard (1 set between 3)
And the firefight's not like it is on TV
Then you'll look to your opp, your gun and your god
As you follow the path all Tommies have trod.

When the Gimpy has hammed and you're down to one round
And the faith you'd lost is suddenly found
When the Taliban horde is up to the fort
And you pray the arty don't drop a round short
Stick to your sergeant like a good squaddie should
And fight them like Satan or one of his brood.

Just like your forebears in mud. dust and ditch
You'll march and you'll fight, and you'll drink and you'll bitch
Whether Froggy or Zulu, or Jerry, or Boer
The brits will fight 'til the battle is over
You may treat him like dirt, but nowt will unnerve him
But i wonder, sometimes, if the country deserves him.