Oh the army looked after its own
It really must be said
Except of course the RSM didn't really
Tuck the squaddies up in bed
Three square meals a day
You could eat your fill
They did try to keep you fit
Just in case you had to kill
And they opened up the cook house
Every single night for toast and tea
I sometimes went if broke
After all everything was free
They had the largest toaster in the world
At least the largest one I had ever seen
As I was young and not well travelled
It very well just may not have been
Where you would cook your toast
Accompanied by the pop pop pop
Of those kamikaze cockroaches
That tried to run across its top
There were heaps and piles and scatters
Scorched and charred by the score
No matter how many failed
There were always plenty more
We'd sweep the toaster top
Brush them on the floor
But just seconds later
There'd be plenty more
We'd find them in the soup
We'd find them in the custard
Like an invading force
Permanently mustered
When man is gone
For what its worth
Maybe the cockroach will
Inherit this earth
Oh the army looked after its own
It really must be said
Except of course the RSM didn't really
Tuck the squaddies up in bed