The Boys of the Old Brigade

Written by: Paul Knight-Kirby

Though we be apart, our memories 
remain intact
The adolescent folly, the hilarious 
intoxicated mess
Quarrels easily eroded, by our 
boundless brotherhood
The envy of the town, gallantly 
parading about to the awe, jealousy, 
the men of inspirational, influential 
social felony
We were the boys of England, the 
golden spurs sparking the culture,  
England's oak swaying herd our 
spirit resting in the dreams of 
monarch the meridian of hope,
Rests on the flight of freedoms 
unheard,untouched and 
unprovoked
You were my children and I your 
son, and now we go into the mist of 
the future, each to each own leaving 
the light of each other in the heart 
of independence, and it came to 
past, my duty to you my hidden art
And with urning I wish to see a 
reunion to come with more 
laughter, happiness passing the sun 
morning till morning, until that time 
when we say goodbye and climb 
that line learning our meaning and 
passing the clouds of journey and 
pride,  remember my brothers my 
friends of mine no matter how far
No matter what difficulties embrace 
our track, iam with you ghost or fact