VERY well done. :O)
RE: "People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf." ---George Orwell
TOMMY -- by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936) I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer, O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away"; I went into a theatre as sober as could be, For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside"; Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?" We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too, While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind", You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all: For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!