I Worked Like A Horse And I

When You're Wounded And Left On Afghanistan's Plains, And The Women Come Out To Cut Up What Remains, Jest Roll To Your Rifle And Blow Out Your Brains And Go To Your Gawd Like A Soldier.

More Men Are Killed By Overwork Than The Importance Of The World Justifies.

Adam Was A Gardener, And God, Who Made Him, Sees That Half Of All Good Gardening Is Done Upon The Knees.

It Was The Forty-fathom Slumber That Clears The Soul And Eye And Heart, And Sends You To Breakfast Ravening. They Emptied A Big Tin Dish Of Juicy Fragments Of Fish- The Blood-ends The Cook Had Collected Overnight. They Cleaned Up The Plates And Pans Of The Elder Mess, Who Were Out Fishing, Sliced Pork For The Midday Meal, Swabbed Down The Foc'sle, Filled The Lamps, Drew Coal And Water For The Cook, An Investigated The Fore-hold, Where The Boat's Stores Were Stacked. It Was Another Perfect Day - Soft, Mild And Clear; And Harvey Breathed To The Very Bottom Of His Lungs.

For Undemocratic Reasons And For Motives Not Of State, They Arrive At Their Conclusions, Largely Inarticulate. Being Void Of Self-expression They Confide Their Views To None; But Sometimes In A Smoking Room, One Learns Why Things Were Done.