now ours are in the Falkland Islands

from Britain to those blessed isles

it’s more or less 8000 miles

yet by rights we claim they’re ours

game to the last like the super powers

when diplomatic efforts fail

the senior service must set sail

we mean to prove we can be meaner

than the macho men of Argentina

meet force with force or we’ll look weak

only sissies turn the other cheek

if you ask your average punter

he’ll say confront the jumped-up Junta

took a dim view of the slaughter

patriots partial to a fight

proudly praised the stirring sight

muchos gauchos mocked ‘El Gringo’