I'm lyin' in bed, I'm in room twenty-six
Thinkin' on things that I've done
Like drinkin' wi' squaddies and bullin' my boots
I'm countin' the medals I've won
These hospital wards are such drab lookin' joints
But the ceiling's as much as I see
It could do with a wee touch of paper or paint
But then again, maybe that's me
Oh, Sergeant, is this the adventure you meant
When I put my name down on the line
All yer talk of computers and sunshine and skis
Oh, I'm askin' you, sergeant, where's mine
I've a brother in Glasgow wi' long, curly hair
When I joined up he said I was daft
He said shootin' strangers just wisnae his game
That brother of mine is nae saft
But I can put up wi' most things I've done in the time
I can even put up with the pain
But what do you do with a gun in your hand
And youre facin’ a hundred odd wanes
