A Conscript in the Culture Wars,
Press ganged by the press
To take the World King’s shilling
And a mission to oppress.
Brutalised through basic training,
Then square bashing for hours,
Soon we’ll be bashing Pakis,
But we’re such a useless shower
Then it’s guard a slaver’s statue;
He’s as British as warm beer
The serjeant-major tells us
And we’re here because we’re here
Then another camp to train us
To tweet death threats without fear
But we’re hanging round for hours
Because we’re because we’re here
Next it’s counting all the rounds
In the Spectator Magazine,
Then blancoing our braces,
Then it’s chips in the canteen
Then it’s off Psychops Training
To learn how to provoke
With thumbs poised on our keypads
The battalions of The Woke
And our officers exhort us
To go right over the top
To emulate the actions
Of a US riot cop
Driving back the SJWs,
The commies and the gays
Using earthy language
They won’t let you say these days
Like in every war we drove them back!
The frogs! The beastly hun!
Let’s drive back our next door neighbours!
Don the khaki! Grab your gun!
In their columns our brave officers
Screamed “Better Dead Than Red!”
And that’s the day we mutinied and
Shot our officers instead.