Post a Comment On: Sipsey Street Irregulars

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Folks,

I wrote this back in 1994 for Bill Clinton. It still fits and bears repeating.

Mike
III

"His Majesty's General Gage's Lament, 1775." (Obama & Co., Please Take Note.)
by Mike Vanderboegh

I didn't want to start a war,
It was not my intention.
They were subjects of the King, you see,
And so were under my direction.

There was riot and tumult 'round about,
The King's name was disrespected.
The sight of Regulars, by gad,
Would soon put things corrected.

The one thing that we could not brook,
Was not the taunts and jeers.
The one thing that ruled my acts
And was the object of my fears --

Was all those guns 'round about,
Held by enemies of the Crown.
T'would not be peace upon our terms
'Til they were gathered into Town.

So we quickly slipped out of Boston
Undetected, we thought, at night.
And when we got to Lexington,
The Rebels were put to flight.

My men went on to Concord,
'Twas most efficiently done.
But after the fight at Concord Bridge
'Twas our turn now to run.

It started out quite disciplined,
As Regulars we'd never lost --
But after about a mile or so,
We began to count the cost.

The path from Concord back to town
Was a toll road bought with blood.
What was a march became a rout
And the butcher's bill, a flood.

Cowardly little farmers,
They'd hardly ever stand.
Yet no sooner would we shoo them off
Here would come another band.

They didn't like our bayonets.
They were very fleet of foot.
But give 'em a tree to hide behind,
By gad, those farmers could shoot!

I waited back in Boston town,
For news of our victory.
We'd have the guns and powder and shot
And their assault artillery.

But then came the despatches,
And the melancholy reports.
We'd got their guns and powder and shot
But we'd got them in the shorts!

The Siege of Boston then began,
And at Breed's Hill made plain
That militia who knew how to shoot
Can limit a King's domain.

But I didn't want to start a war.
It was not my desire.
It was a "reasonable regulation."
I never thought they'd fire.

The yokels ended my career,
In time they whipped us fair.
And let that be a warning
To any well-intentioned heir.

For one thing you should never do,
Either seriously or in fun,
Is try to part a free American
From his liberty and his gun.

For you will find to your chagrin,
Though you may not intend it,
To march from Boston is easily done,
But you may not get back in it.