We Had A Kettle; We Let It

We Have Done With Hope And Honour. We Are Lost To Love And Truth, We Are Dropping Down The Ladder Rung By Rung; And The Measure Of Our Torment Is The Measure Of Our Youth. God Help Us, For We Knew The Worst Too Young!

In The Carboniferous Epoch We Were Promised Abundance For All, By Robbing Selected Peter To Pay For Collective Paul; But, Though We Had Plenty Of Money, There Was Nothing Our Money Could Buy, And The Gods Of The Copybook Headings Said: 'if You Don't Work You Die.'

He Who Faces No Calamity Gains No Courage.

Who Has Smelled The Woodsmoke At Twilight, Who Has Seen The Campfire Burning, Who Is Quick To Read The Noises Of The Night?

Bite On The Bullet, Old Man, And Don't Let Them Think You're Afraid.