The bugle calls us to attend
What must be done before days end,
In ranks we form in ordered stance,
Until the bugle sounds advance.

Gone now are jokes and carefree banter
The bugle calls for us to canter,
From the canter now the charge
The flashing guns now looming large.

Our line now broken in a hundred places
The light of fear on empty faces,
A downward cut, an upward thrust
A bloodstained sword broken in the dust.

Press on, press on comes the Captain’s call
As friend and foe around him fall,
I take the Standard from dying hands
Lest it be trampled in foreign sands.

One last rally, just one will do
And as if rehearsed and right on cue
We break their line and drive right through.

A look to the right, no, just a glance
Too late to see the enemy lance,
A sudden pain and darkness falls
Cease fire, cease fire, the bugle calls.