I hate cleaning kit; I despise it that’s that!
I‘d rather get my head down and turn out it tat.
Brass buttons must shine and boots have to gleam,
there is never any time now for fun it would seem.
Married to my brasso and divorced from my life,
I spend more time in my kit than I do with my wife!
Dress orders one and two, and three for good measure,
showing three in a day, is an honour and a pleasure!
I could dip in liquid gold and still get ripped to bits,
that little fat sergeant is getting on me tits!
I don’t think I will ever get this “good turnout” lark,
a spell in “the glass house” awaits me to embark.
I feel I’ve chomped enough for now, the provost’s on his way,
Back to rag, brush and polish –with one good thing to say –
getting thrashed on that square is making me fit,
still I can’t shine boots, and look a maggot in my kit!
