COST

Back in nineteen hundred and fifty eight
As I marched through the Queen's Own Gate
A stack of papers were presented to me
Not the least of them was the S.D.B.

The Captain said there was little cost
It covered me even if my body was lost
I would get a flag and I'd get a stone
And a six foot box for my hair and bone

And each young soldier he had to sign
For his body bag and his box of pine
And every month for forty five years
They'd deduct the cost of a couple of beers

It'll be deducted from my Army Pension
Til the firing party, it comes to attention
I don't mind paying. It's not a big cost
It's the men who die young, now that's the loss!

©Copyright November 2003 by Billy Willbond