Farewell to Aden
sent in by
John
Lister
Farewell to Aden
sent in by
John
Lister
| Land of toil sweat and strain,
Land of sun and Maffish rain - Sweat rash, foot rot and Prickly Heat Aching hearts and blistering feet, Swarms of flies that buzz and bite, Fans that hum throughout the night. Land of scorpions, camels and bugs, Hashish, Heenia, and other drugs. Streets of sorrow,streets of shame Streets that you could never name. Clouds of dust and sand that send The sanest people round the bend. Donkeys, goats, and Pyiard dogs, Cut throats, thieves, and pestering wogs. Land where children in their teens Sell souvenirs outside canteens "Buckshee, Buckshee", is their cry, For this alone, they live and die. Where Tinea thrives, and Gripo cripes, Where wogs smoke Hubbly Bubbly pipes. Where every Arab, black or brown Awaits on you to go down town. Obnoxious smells, eternal strife, Oh! for Blighty and a wife! Where ex-tour men just sit and gloat While others dream about the boat, Their only aim, to dodge and skive Until their clearance chits arrive. Our chief delight is to laugh and shout At some poor mug thats just come out. Oh. for Britains happy life, Where people never know such strife. My final hope I'm going home, Away from it I'll never roam - I'm going home, and Oh! how grand To see green fields - instead of sand! Land of sorrow, filth and shame I've seen you once - but NEVER again. I leave you now - with NO regrets. The sights I've seen, I'll never forget, Natives Heaven, white mans hell, This place called Aden - FARE THEE WELL !!! |
If you have a anecdote, funny
story, limerick or song that you remember from your service, we would like
to publish it.
Please send your stories
or songs to James Paul
