I'm just too old for drilling
I can't hike anymore
So I'm bound for the soldiers' graveyard
Behind an office door.
They sing-"Old soldiers never die,"
We don't; we live on crumbs,
The shrilling, splendid bugles
An' the thunder of the drums!
I won't do Guard in a snowstorm
An' I won't hafta go an' fire,
It's just messin' around an office
An' waitin' to retire.
"Approved per 1st Indorsement . . ."
An' through the window comes
The music of a Guardmount
An' the cadence, throbbin' drums!
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