It was in this hot and sultry land,
Where mountain snows had quickly thawed,
When into the temple strode one man,
It was our Sergeant; big bully Lloyd.

I swear when I saw the Buddha’s eyes,
The one on the right, then did glisten,
But Sergeant Lloyd, said it was a lie,
And to wise words, he would not listen.

Striding across the great temple floor,
His beret on the back of his head,
His shoes still on; not left at the door;
Men had done that before it was said.

Lloyd far from being a man quite fit,
For in fact, he was very rotund,
But never yet had I seen him quit,
Nor have I ever seen him out gunned.

An old man was begging for money,
To feed his dying wife and her child,
Lloyd just laughed; he thought it was funny,
But his laughter soon sounded quite wild.

Under the tan, Lloyd’s face had gone pale,
His bare neck then became scarlet red,
From his throat, there came a fearsome wail,
And in a second, Sgt Lloyd lay dead.

From doctors, there was no explaining,
The man’s heart, it had been sound and strong,
But Buddha’s straight face was now smiling,
Knowing quite well, Sgt Lloyd had done wrong.