My girl she give me the go onest,
When I was a London lad;
An I went on the drink for a fortnight,
An then I went to the bad.
The Queen she give me a shillin
To fight for er over the seas;
But Guvment built me a fever-trap,
An Injia give me disease.
(Chorus) Ho! dont you eed what a girl says,
An dont you go for the beer;
But I was an ass when I was at grass,
An that is why Im ere.
I fired a shot at a Afghan,
The beggar e fired again,
An I lay on my bed with a ole in my ed,
An missed the next campaign!
I up with my gun at a Burman
Who carried a bloomin dah,
But the cartridge stuck and the baynit bruk,
An all I got was the scar.
(Chorus) Ho! dont you aim at a Afghan,
When you stand on the skyline clear;
An dont you go for a Burman
If none o your friends is near.
I served my time for a Corpral,
An wetted my stripes with pop,
For I went on the bend with a intimate friend,
An finished the night in the shop.
I served my time for a Sergeant;
The Colonel e sez No!
The most youll see is a full C.B.
An . . . very next night twas so!
(Chorus) Ho! dont you go for a Corpral
Unless your ed is clear;
But I was an ass when I was at grass,
An that is why Im ere.
Ive tasted the luck o the Army
In barrack an camp an clink,
An I lost my tip through the bloomin trip
Along o the women an drink.
Im down at the heel o my service,
An when I am laid on the shelf,
My very worst friend from beginning to end
By the blood of a mouse was myself!
(Chorus) Ho! dont you eed what a girl says,
An dont you go for the beer;
But I was an ass when I was at grass,
An that is why Im ere!
Private Ortheriss Song
Rudyard
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