When we straighten out the kinks
give up the high jinks and the japes,
the capers that we catered to
who do we become?

Stiff collared stuffed shirts or
ladies in their bolstered skirts?

peasants as pleasant as they may be
are not the people I want for me.

I like the middle of the road brigade
The marmite, toast and marmalade
set on the table ready laid brigade

actually
I just like brigades
the words sounds so military
full of shot and shell and blood and
guts,
the dead don't go to hell
they join
a brigade

brigade, brigade, brigade, brigade
the call I hear must be obeyed

my kinks are just as ***** now
don't know how and do not care
the table's laid in time for
one more and one
brigade.

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismayed?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
  Someone had blundered:
Theirs was not to make reply,
Theirs was not to reason why,
Theirs was but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
  Volleyed and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell,
  Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air,
Sab'ring the gunners there,
Charging and army, while
  All the world wondered:
Plunging in the battery smoke,
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre-stroke
  Shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back, but not--
  Not the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
  Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that fought so well,
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
  Left of the six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
Oh, the wild charge they made!
  All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,
  Noble Six Hundred!