When our guns shout
To silence the voice of oppression
And the applauding tyranny
They grow quiet
banished to oblivion
When our boots
Ka-ka-kaed athundering
And Khaki ours shine
In an effulgent light
Poised our bayonets erect
Like charging rhino’s horn
And our tanks’ trot
With stout determination
towards enemy trenches
And artillery guns thundered
Shells liquidating corrupted souls
Of incorrigible stature
Smashing, exterminating, vice, vileness
Crushing corruption’s vain structure
And missiles’, rockets’
Lightening like strike
at heart of despotism
Jets’ ours roars and zooms warwards
With rockets missiles
In their quiver wings
dodging ack-ack
Venomed serpent spits
And dogfight dribbles
Knocking down enemy
Hunting birds of prey
Surface to surface
Air to surface
Air to air
Target: Imperial-neocolonia ideal