They say old soldiers never die, but fade into the mist.
And now our friends are fading too; names on a growing list.
As each one fades within our ranks, and leaves a vacant file,
Their memory lives on with us, we mourn, yet still we smile

We mourn the passing of a friend, but smile at what we had.
For we were armoured soldiers from the mould of Galahad,
Who formed a bond as brothers do, yes we were family
Fraternal bonds which can’t be broke, and last eternally

Our brotherhood stands in the rain beside the chapel gate,
With polished shoes and trousers pressed, each standing tall and straight.
The ranks are straight, the files are true, all eyes are to the fore,
As the hearse with flag draped coffin, stops by the chapel door.

They see those aging men stood there, defying wind and rain.
Their creaking knees are all forgot, and other aches and pain,
As smartly to attention, on the order of command.
They salute their faded comrade and dignified they stand.

Once we have sung our praises and made our farewell speeches
The Padre told of vales of tears and all The Lord beseeches
Then we shall gather socially and start “Remember when..”
And you, dear friend, shall in our minds live on, live on again