we wanted to say it (you know we did)
but they held a gun
we wanted to shout it (you know we did)
but we want to live to shout it again.
you're out of work and want a job ‘cos everyone needs money
the only hope on offer is a contract for the army
they make you a man, man, they make you mundane,
you're taught how to wash out your boots and your brain
troops out
they pack you off to belfast to protect inhuman rights
to help our bosses profit from the orange-green divide
you're paid to uphold, you're told, the rights of the crown
to butcher the catholics in andersonstown
troops out
it's funny every tv comic jokes about the taigs
you never hear them laugh about the loyalist brigades
they say the provos are thick, they're just an army of clowns
so, what a scream, the sas has never run them down
troops out
and on patrol you mouth good day they shout back 'keep your fucking face
shut'
so how much longer can you bear the bitterness and boycotts?
you've got to get out, trooper, you've nothing to gain
as the great british agent of panic and pain
troops out
dick witts 