My wildcat freind has got the sled,
& I have packed a snack.
We're all set for the trip ahead,
We're never coming back!
We're abondoning this life we've led,
So long, Milords & Miladies!
We're tired of doing what you've said,
In fact, it's driving us crazy!
We're going where it snows all year,
Where life can have real meaning.
Where ugly drill sergeants don't yell & make us hear,
''Your quarters sould stand some cleaning!''
The Northlands is the place for us,
That's where we want to live.
Up there we'll get to yell & cuss,
& act real primitive.
We'll never have to go to training school,
Forced into submission,
By monstrous, crabby instructors,
Who's skill long since reached fruition.
We'll never have to clean a plate,
Of veggie glops & goos.
Messily we'll masticate,
Using any fork we choose!
The timber wolves will be our mates,
We'll stay up late & howl,
At the moon, till night-time ends,
Before going on the prowl.
Oh, what a life! We cannot wait,
To be in that icy land,
Where we'll be masters of our fate,
& lead a life that's grand!