Mama is a nagging wife.
When she nags; the house thunders, Papa trembles, we hide under the wooden bunk asking God to save us from the incoming third world war.
Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant;
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant;
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant.
Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion;
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's ration;
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passion.