Back in 1889 a regiment was born
And her mounted troopers rode in sunshine and in storm.
From Bechuanaland to the mighty Zambezi;
Known by many names she was the BSAP.
Come ye troopers of old
Where 'ere you may be,
Drink a century toast to the BSAP
And well sing a couple of bars
Of the good old Kum-a-kye-song;
To the BSAP and the regiment lives on!
She has served in war and peace, had glory and has bled;
A multi-sided role in the land where she was bred;
A guardian of that country, she was always there
Like that trooper that was moulded on the Morris Depot square.
Come ye troopers of old
Where 'ere you may be,
Drink a century toast to the BSAP
And well sing a couple of bars
Of the good old Kum-a-kye-song;
To the BSAP and the regiment lives on!
Old Black Boots may march on, reservists may grow old
And PATU might have done their very last patrol;
Last Bobby on his beat, last airman in the sky,
Last B-girl on the radio, the legend cannot die.
Come ye troopers of old
Where 'ere you may be,
Drink a century toast to the BSAP
And well sing a couple of bars
Of the good old Kum-a-kye-song;
To the BSAP and the regiment lives on!
At the outposts of the world, the regiment lives on;
In the land of the silver fern, Australia and Hong Kong,
In Britain's misty isles and beneath (American) Canadian skies,
In Africa, her birthland, the spirit never dies.
Come ye troopers of old
Where 'ere you may be,
Drink a century toast to the BSAP
And well sing a couple of bars
Of the good old Kum-a-kye-song;
To the BSAP and the regiment lives on!
To the BSAP and the regiment lives on!
To the BSAP and the regiment lives on!