ramblings and things
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A Taliban bomb
Blew Johhny to bed,
When he came round
He wished he was dead.
So when Johnny finally came home
He wasn’t marching there
Just sitting in an ambulance
Alongside his new wheelchair.
So its goodbye Johnny to squaddie life
The billet and his mates
They’ll miss him for maybe a little while
But fate is fate is fate
There weren’t brass bands to meet him
Just his family no more
For Johnny was one of the victims
Of a politicians war
And they will still make their speeches
But they don’t care a bit
No blood splashes their tail coats
When a squaddie’s hit
And Johnny will get his pension
To go quietly away
To join the vaguely remembered
Every Poppy Day
He’ll need to fight for every penny
To just barely survive
For he’s embarrassed his leaders
By just being alive
Carry back your shield or be carried on it
Was the ancient Spartan way
Oh how our glorious leaders wish that
Were the creed today
But they stand at the Cenotaph
Year after year after year
And shed the latest versions
Of their crocodile tears
And Johnny's learned a lesson
If he never knew before
There aint any glory mates
In marching off to war
When Johnny finally came home
He wasn’t marching there
Just sitting in an ambulance
Alongside his new wheelchair.
That Taliban bomb
Still echoes in his head
And Johnny still wishes
That he was dead.
Blew Johhny to bed,
When he came round
He wished he was dead.
So when Johnny finally came home
He wasn’t marching there
Just sitting in an ambulance
Alongside his new wheelchair.
So its goodbye Johnny to squaddie life
The billet and his mates
They’ll miss him for maybe a little while
But fate is fate is fate
There weren’t brass bands to meet him
Just his family no more
For Johnny was one of the victims
Of a politicians war
And they will still make their speeches
But they don’t care a bit
No blood splashes their tail coats
When a squaddie’s hit
And Johnny will get his pension
To go quietly away
To join the vaguely remembered
Every Poppy Day
He’ll need to fight for every penny
To just barely survive
For he’s embarrassed his leaders
By just being alive
Carry back your shield or be carried on it
Was the ancient Spartan way
Oh how our glorious leaders wish that
Were the creed today
But they stand at the Cenotaph
Year after year after year
And shed the latest versions
Of their crocodile tears
And Johnny's learned a lesson
If he never knew before
There aint any glory mates
In marching off to war
When Johnny finally came home
He wasn’t marching there
Just sitting in an ambulance
Alongside his new wheelchair.
That Taliban bomb
Still echoes in his head
And Johnny still wishes
That he was dead.
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Johnny ( Revised Performance Version )
Johnny ( Revised Performance Version )