We’re the British Army, we’re the cream, we’re the best…
But our so-called Covenant will leave you depressed;

We will welcome you through an open door…
And chuck you out when we don’t need you any more;

We will provide you with accommodation that’s clean and neat…
Until we discharge you onto the street;

We will teach you to work as a team of renown…
But when we’ve done with you you’ll be on your own;

Our extended training will teach you to kill…
With just a few days resettlement to learn another skill;

We will ensure you are proud of your regiment…
And institutionalise you to become dependent;

When you camp in bad weather we can’t show you pity…
So you’re used to it when you’re living in cardboard city;

We will provide you with hot drinks and food rations aplenty…
Get used to alcohol abuse and the soup kitchen;

We will care for you if you are injured mentally…
Actually, we don’t recognise PTSD;

Our covenant is to care for you without fail…
Unless, of course, you are sent to jail.