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Dirty British Soldier

Where did he steal that fowl he has a-roasting on his fire    
He looks a dirty scoundrel, a godless thug, a liar    
I’ve heard that they’re all rapists every woman’s dread    
When they’ve finished with ‘em they leave their victims dead    
   
I’ve heard that they eat babies and broil them on a spit    
‘Tis known in other the villages and that’s the truth of it    
Thus whispered fearful peasants behind the soldiers pack    
Should he leave them to the enemy they’d damn soon want him back    
   
Hold your peace cried the village priest at his Sunday sermon    
He’s come to fight the tyrant with the Dutchman and the German    
They pay in gold for the food they take not plunder us like the French    
And he'd hang from the gallows tree should he rape any wench    
   
He slept out in the fields last night exposed to pouring rain    
This morn he has no breakfast so he'll curse and he'll complain    
Yet when they get to fighting there’s none better, braver, bolder    
Be he uncouth and foul of mouth God bless the British soldier    
   
Be grateful that he’s here good folk, upon on your knees and pray    
For all will need god’s mercy on this June’s eighteenth day    
He’s fighting for our freedom for the sake of me and you    
And many of them will die for us near our village Waterloo  
 
Written to commemorate the 200th anniversary of battle of Waterloo fought on Sunday 18th June 1815 the final defeat of the French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte.
Written by blocat
Published | Edited 10th Feb 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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