Hello mother, hello father
Basra is quite, like no other
It gets really, quite hair raising
Especially when the mortar bombs start raining

You know my buddy, Corporal White
He got bitten late at night
From a bloody camel spider
Now his middle finger’s swelled to two inch wider

All us squaddies hate the militia
They’re hell bent on firing at ya
It’s so hot and the air smells shitty
And what’s worse the air cons broke now that’s a pity

Now I don’t want this to scare ya’
There’s this dump here full of malaria
And the civvies do their ablutions
Using water stored in plastic roadside stanchions

Can I come home, oh Mother, Father
God I hate it here in Basra
Don’t leave me out here in this sandpit
Get me out of here please you know I cannot stand it

If I come home, I promise I will
Not mess the house or raid the fridge still
Help my ‘brothers’ get out as well
This place is dreadful this is why it’s called hell

Dearest Father, Darling Mother
Six months of duty is a bother
Can I come home, I know you miss me
This bloody sandpit stinks and I’m going crazy

Wait a minute, the sirens wailing
Better run now, bombs are falling
Guns are firing, it’s not better
Mother, Father please don’t disregard this letter