
Heavy eyes in artillery jackets:
Long distance lunatics on parade,
Soldiery retired and on the lash;
Fools disappearing into bunglalow futures,
Rum chappos with doctor's 'scripts and hungry guises.
Reapers at the door, ushering you on;
Time for another?
Last call,
Late Call;
Televised sermonry for the tired masses.
Heady lines and heavier boots,
Feet raw, slip away,
Like Townshend had it;
Freedom never easy,
Hidebound by duty,
Even to the self...