Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

We marched two by two along Muddied path leading to gallows Corner, singing with voices strong ; Full of hope as dashing callow. Ripe to be picked and Ripe To be plucked for we had yet To taste the battle of snipe And shot, splinter; bayonette. We arrived at our trench Paid for with the King's shilling And breathed in the stench, Our home for the killing Of the Bosch a hundred Yards in front of us. Through the looking glass thread- Bare suits steeled to cus!. The shelling sprang to life And screamed overhead At enemy lines, and strife Clothed them as they lay dead. Or so we thought with shell Of victory diminished, like lambs To the slaughter we fell, fleeced Of our youth, once boastful rams.