Ian Anderson - A christmas song lyrics

From playing fields to k**ing fields: just one small step of madness Officer training, uniform, boys together shower together Rank and file can be just fine but that's not what we're here for So, sign upon the dotted line, be commissioned, Hell for leather How we sang that old school song, from Pirates of Penzance Foemen bearing steel, we slapped our chests and raised our voices No mad poets we, or painters twee but young men with a yearning To flex our might for all that's right when face with moral choices Wrapped in the old school song, we fly our colours high Bravo! The old school song! Harsh reality, by and by Dad delivered us from the Hun and we reflect his selfless deed On this desert plain of conflict where special forces, choppers need Fly-boy coming to collect you, lift you up and then protect you Be this gung or be this ho, may glorious battle resurrect you Wrapped in the old school song, we fly our colours high Bravo! The old school song! Harsh reality, by and by