In the days of line infantry
When republics sprang up as poppies
Only to be cut down by monarchist axes
Soldiers sometimes stole monks’ robes
Cut them up, dyed them, wore them
As uniforms of colors bold
Hues so striking no one wears them today
Would ever wear them in battle
Even in jest or reenactment
And yet in those bygone days
They did just that
Steal the raiment of religion
Turn them into pink battle uniforms
And fight
Fight

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