They left together
Not like dogs with bended tails
But Roman soldiers returning from the battle field
Head and shoulders up
But we all knew
They had lost everything
Not just the battle
But the war.
Where was the leather buckler?
Where was the tray of quails?
Where was the log book from Enfield?
Where was the footman the Fon of Nso sent up?
What happened to the first crew?
What would they say in theior letter to Ealing?
They knew the result would be for the prime minister to rattle and ramble
But who cared? After all, this was war.
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