The Rough Riders Poem by Robert Sheridan

Yeah, c’mon all of you seasoned ranch hands,
cowboys, policemen, Pawnee scouts, east-coast
polo players, Ivy League athletes, and librarians,
Assistant Secretary of the Navy Teddy Roosevelt
needs a helping hand, down on a hill near San Juan
So put down your dairies and pick-up a bayonet and gun
We’re gonna have a whole lot of fun.

And it’s one, two, three, what’re we fighting for?
Don’t ask me, I was mustered into the Rough Riders
The next stop is someplace called Santiago, Cuba
And it’s five, six, seven, open the gang plank of the Yucatan
Well, there ain’t no time to reason why
Whoopee! 76% of us are gonna die.

Well, c’mon generals and Colonel Roosevelt
Let’s move fast – your big chance has come at last
We’ve gotta go out and get those Spaniards
The only good Spanish-speaking one, is one that’s dead
And you know that peace can only be won
When all of the enemy have been blown to Kingdom come.

Well, c’mon United States of America
Don’t be slow, why this is war, so let’s go, let’s go
There are plenty of futures to be made
By supplin’ America with the tools of the political trade
Just hope and pray that polling place volunteers and union bosses
won’t be bought and paid.

So c’mon mothers throughout this great land
Pack your sons off to fight Uncle Sam’s War (don’t bite the hand)
And c’mon you lazy bum fathers, don’t procrastinate
Send them off before they’re ready to shave
Be the first one on your block to brag they’ve gone to fight with Teddy.


‘2007’