I now mention our general of war
Who never fainted at the sight of gore.
Into battle he never rode alone
Fearless was he, our good General Cone
He was strong and tall, six foot three he was
And his uniform never held a fuzz
He led the men into war with a cry
“We won’t be the first ones to die!”
His boots all polished and his buttons prim
He was not a fellow you would call dim
The troops around Cone him called him good sir knight
If the need arose there would be a fight
Cone joined the pilgrimage to heal his wounds
Along the way he would sing out of tune
Any gambling the general would bid
But never would Cone bid against his kid.
His manners were always polite and nice
That was how he won his wife nicknamed ‘Spice’
For Christmas Cone would dress up in a suit
And delight all the children with his ‘loot.’
Since this was over seas he would bring books
And from the unlearned parents he’d get looks
Did he tell you how he earned his high rank?
It’s a tale he must tell you, to be frank
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