Put to the Test (Duke of Edinburgh Silver Practice Expedition)


(I imagine this to the tune of ‘A Horse With No Name’ by America, and since it is not refined enough to be a poem of its own accord, as far as I am concerned, I have formatted it in conformance to the song.)

 

On the first day up the hill

There was grass and marsh and mud.

My feet got wet, but f’r eleven hours

On the upward stretch I trudged.

In the night I took my boots off,

And I saw my feet had rubbed.

I patched them up with Compeed tape,

Thought no more could I have budged.

 

I’ve been on a journey with my feet in a mess.

It felt good to be put to the test,

‘Cause she told me, you can never complain,

‘Cause you won’t be the only one who’s burning with pain.

 

La laa laa la la-la la la-la la laa la.

 

On the next day I was slower

Where the previous I’d led.

By lunchtime I wasn’t fit to walk.

Not a single word I said.

Twelve miles and more I carried on,

Though my feet were raw and red.

 

I’ve been on a journey with my feet in a mess.

It felt good to be put to the test,

‘Cause she told me, you can never complain,

‘Cause you won’t be the only one who’s burning with pain.

 

La laa laa la la-la la la-la la laa la.

 

(instrumental)

 

On the last day they were breaking,

Leaking viscous yellow pus.

We got lost and a few fat tears dripped down,

But I told myself I must.

We got back to camp in the evening—

I didn’t want to make a fuss.

But they saw my feet and they rushed me off

To hospital in a minibus.

 

I’ve been on a journey with my feet in a mess.

It felt good to be put to the test,

‘Cause she told me, you can never complain,

‘Cause you won’t be the only one who’s burning with pain.

 

La laa laa la la-la la la-la la laa la.

The End

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