Star Wars Shanty - The Trooper's Lament

The Star Wars Shanty Project: Shanties and other songs from the Star Wars Universe. PATREON:   / rowanthebard   FACEBOOK:   / rowanthebard   -------------- It is a truth acknowledged galaxy-wide that wherever you find war, you will likely find at least one folk song about a soldier who enlisted and now deeply regret's their decision. Such songs, however, were almost never heard about the Imperial military... one might surmise that the powers that be cracked down hard on that kind of creative expression. But towards the end of the Galactic Civil War, about two years after the Battle of Yavin, one song started popping up in cantinas and mess halls across the galaxy. Called 'The Trooper's Lament,' it painted a bleak picture of life as an Imperial grunt. No one knows where the song originated. Perhaps it was first sung by a trooper so fed up with their lot in life that they were willing to risk the rather final consequences of Imperial censure. Though some suggest that the Rebel Alliance created and spread the tune themselves, as a rather brilliant and subversive bit of propaganda. It is true that Imperial recruitment numbers started falling around this same time, though whether or not that had anything to do with the song itself (as opposed to the PR nightmare that was the destruction of Alderaan and the Death Star shortly after) is, of course, impossible to determine. LYRICS: In my 18th year a bold recruiting sergeant came to town, Saying 'Here's an opportunity for glory and renown.' In a coat of olive green she stood, and pointed right at me, Saying 'Son you'll be a trooper, and you'll see the galaxy.' 'You'll have some fine adventures, and who knows? Before you're done, You may even get the chance to fight some filthy rebel scum. You'll help spread law and order, and you'll earn an honest pay.' So I stepped up to that sergeant and I signed my life away. (Chorus) So I took the white, for to join the fight, And across the stars to roam. For the Empire's dole I sold my soul, And I'm never going home. No, don't think I'm going home. At Academy I learned a trooper's lot was bottom rung, They would chew us up and spit us out, like so much bantha dung. Our beds were made of ferrocrete, and I found it hard to tell, If a mining stint on Kessel would have been a lesser hell. After ten long months of eating food not fit to serve a droid, I reported to the brass to find out where I'd be deployed. I had visions of an ISD, but found, to my chagrin, The orders had come down to send me to the Outer Rim. Now I'm stuck on this backwater, with no chance to prove my skill. If the searing heat won't kill you, then the boredom surely will. I was promised grand adventures, chasing bold and new frontiers, But that horizon's been the same for my whole damn career. So beware the bold recruiter, take this warning now by me. They'll talk of all the good you'll do, and all the sights you'll see. But it's the center of the galaxy I'm stationed furthest from... And blasting merchants and torching farms is not why I signed on.