Terry D. Sutherland

A SOLDIER’S MORNING LAMENT

‘Twas the break of day; when I found my way
After a night on the town

I had my say; when I spent my pay
I must have bought a dozen rounds

The ale flowed free like a foamy sea
The pints filled with the amber brown

We drank to the clan and grand pipe band
We told stories of loves we found

When the dawn broke; not a word was spoke
All what was left was a half o crown

My head hurt bad for the drink I had
I have to lay these old bones down

When I wake; hair of the dog I’ll take
I’ll start again when night comes ‘round

You work all day for a soldier’s pay
Then at night you’re a bloody clown

I’ll soldier for pay every bloody day
Until they lay me in the ground