2025 Competition Entry:
Soldiers Welcome! by Michael Sellers
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Genre
Folk
Artist
Co-writer(s)
yes
Performer(s)
Music: Michael Sellers; Sergio Aguilar
Lyrics: Michael Sellers
Lead Vocal: Ale Destiny
Backing Vocals: Alejandro Hidalgo & Michael Sellers
Guitars & bass, piano, percussion; musical arrangement, & production: Sergio Aguilar
Lyrics: Michael Sellers
Lead Vocal: Ale Destiny
Backing Vocals: Alejandro Hidalgo & Michael Sellers
Guitars & bass, piano, percussion; musical arrangement, & production: Sergio Aguilar
Description
The idea for this song came when I saw a photo of the house a close friend used to live in Guildford. What struck me was that there was a painted sign above the front door stating “Soldiers Welcome” that was not there when I used to visit him. Apparently, a later owner discovered it when repainting the house. It was dated from the early 20th century, before the First World War, and was a place where soldiers could bring their wives or girlfriends so that they did not need to them to pubs frequented by unmarried soldiers. I felt a better story could be told by turning it into a brothel and telling the story of a prostitute. Originally, she was from Ireland and her soon to be dead boyfriend was from Scotland, but I didn’t know any female Irish singers in Mexico, so I changed her origin to a catholic country in Europe and asked my friend Alejandro Hidalgo (Ale Destiny) to sing the lead, which she did triumphantly.
Bio
Michael Sellers is a guitar playing singer-songwriter from England, now living and recording songs in Merida, Mexico. Prior to recording, he was an English language teacher in many Mexican universities, as well as a teacher of Latin American History. He has also worked in England, the USA, and Denmark. He also sang in many rock bands in Guadalajara and Merida, but now concentrates on composing and recording his own songs.
Lyrics
There’s many a squaddie comes visiting
From the barracks up the road
And they all, if they pay, get a welcome
And a rest from a soldier’s load
They’ll be fighting for King and country
And be paid with a grisly end
So, the least we can do is to hold them
To be, for a while, their friend
To be, for a while, to be, for a while
To be, for a while, their friend
Ah me, I was born in a Catholic land
I’ve no love for you Protestant lads!
But I got put in the family way
And reviled as sinful and bad
I’m in England now, a whore for sure
But I dance and I sing and I play
And the squaddies laugh so innocently
As night gives way to the day
As night gives way to
as night gives way to
As night gives way to the day
I fell in love with an Irish boy
No more tender a lad you could meet
He was set to ask me to marry
But was lost in some bloody retreat
I’m carrying his child in my belly
But it’s whoring that brings in the dough
I’m to visit some witch in an alley
To make sure that there’s nothing to show
Make sure that there’s nothing,
Make sure that there’s nothing
Make sure that there’s nothing to show
The doctor says that I got the clap
A soldier, I’ll bet, from the front
The sluts down there do a roaring trade
Death so close, that they bear the brunt
Of virgins wanting a taste of the flesh
‘fore their bodies are ripped to shreds
And if they survive, return with their dose
To pass on in the heat of our beds
Pass on in the heat, pass on in the heat
To pass on in the heat of our beds
Yes, many a squaddie comes visiting
And will do for some time to come
But will there be any lads left alive
To march to the military drum
Yes, soldiers are welcome, one and all
And will be for some time to come
But where are all of the marrying types
To save us from our whoredom
To save us from our, to save us from our …
To save us from our whoredom
From the barracks up the road
And they all, if they pay, get a welcome
And a rest from a soldier’s load
They’ll be fighting for King and country
And be paid with a grisly end
So, the least we can do is to hold them
To be, for a while, their friend
To be, for a while, to be, for a while
To be, for a while, their friend
Ah me, I was born in a Catholic land
I’ve no love for you Protestant lads!
But I got put in the family way
And reviled as sinful and bad
I’m in England now, a whore for sure
But I dance and I sing and I play
And the squaddies laugh so innocently
As night gives way to the day
As night gives way to
as night gives way to
As night gives way to the day
I fell in love with an Irish boy
No more tender a lad you could meet
He was set to ask me to marry
But was lost in some bloody retreat
I’m carrying his child in my belly
But it’s whoring that brings in the dough
I’m to visit some witch in an alley
To make sure that there’s nothing to show
Make sure that there’s nothing,
Make sure that there’s nothing
Make sure that there’s nothing to show
The doctor says that I got the clap
A soldier, I’ll bet, from the front
The sluts down there do a roaring trade
Death so close, that they bear the brunt
Of virgins wanting a taste of the flesh
‘fore their bodies are ripped to shreds
And if they survive, return with their dose
To pass on in the heat of our beds
Pass on in the heat, pass on in the heat
To pass on in the heat of our beds
Yes, many a squaddie comes visiting
And will do for some time to come
But will there be any lads left alive
To march to the military drum
Yes, soldiers are welcome, one and all
And will be for some time to come
But where are all of the marrying types
To save us from our whoredom
To save us from our, to save us from our …
To save us from our whoredom
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