It got beyond all orders an’ it got beyond all‘ ope; It got to shammin’ wounded an’ retirin’ from the‘ alt. ‘ Ole companies was lookin’ for the nearest road to slope; It were just a bloomin’ knock-out — an’ our fault!
Now there ai n't no chorus‘ ere to give, Nor there ai n't no band to play; An’ I wish I was dead‘ fore I done what I did, Or seen what I seed that day!
We was sick o’ bein’ punished, an’ we let‘ em know it, too; An’ a company-commander up an’‘ it us with a sword, An’ some one shouted “‘ Ook it!” an’ it come to sove-ki-poo, An’ we chucked our rifles from us — O my Gawd!
There was thirty dead an’ wounded on the ground we would n't keep — No, there was n't more than twenty when the front begun to go; But, Christ! along the line o’ flight they cut us up like sheep, An’ that was all we gained by doin’ so.
I‘ eard the knives be'ind me, but I durs n't face my man, Nor I do n't know where I went to,‘ cause I did n't‘ alt to see, Till I‘ eard a beggar squealin’ out for quarter as‘ e ran, An’ I thought I knew the voice an’ — it was me!
We was‘ idin’ under bedsteads more than‘ arf a march away; We was lyin’ up like rabbits all about the countryside; An’ the major cursed‘ is Maker‘ cause‘ e lived to see that day, An’ the colonel broke‘ is sword acrost, an’ cried.
We was rotten‘ fore we started — we was never disciplined; We made it out a favour if an order was obeyed; Yes, every little drummer‘ ad‘ is rights an’ wrongs to mind, So we had to pay for teachin’ — an’ we paid!
The papers‘ id it‘ andsome, but you know the Army knows; We was put to groomin’ camels till the regiments withdrew, An’ they gave us each a medal for subduin’ England's foes, An’ I‘ ope you like my song — because it's true!
An’ there ai n't no chorus‘ ere to give, Nor there ai n't no band to play; But I wish I was dead‘ fore I done what I did, Or seen what I seed that day!
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