It was fairly quiet in the billet
Time to turn off the big lights
Though we had a niggling worry
Ware'd had one of his nights
Wandered to every bed
Pen and paper in his fist
Taken our requests
Making up his list
Of who was getting what
When he was finally dead
Cursed us for our avarice
Sadly shaken his head
Then taken up his razor
With new Gillette blade
Wandered to bathroom
All bequests being made
This happened every so often
When he'd had that type day
All ritually shook his hand
And wished him on his way
We were never quite certain
One day he just might
But not to worry
It was not to be tonight
We heard a door bang
Cursing coming near
Then a querulous voice
Loud for all to hear
I tried to cut my veins
But it hurt a bloody lot
The water was too deep
And too bloody hot
Somebody tossed a packet
For Ware to light a fag
We could hear the need
In the first deep drag
We all examined his wrist scratches
Almost too minute for human sight
Then Ware ambled off to bed
And we settled for the night
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