'E's or pukka Kandaharder- Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!

'E's the Dook of Aggy Chel; 'E's the man that done us well, An' we'll follow 'im to 'ell- Won't we Bobs?

If a limber's slipped a trace, 'Ook on Bobs.

If a marker's lost 'is place, Dress by Bobs.

For 'e's eyes all up 'is coat, An' a bugle in 'is throat, An' you will not play the goat Under Bobs.

'E's a little down on drink, Chaplain Bobs; But it keeps us outer Clink- Don't it Bobs?

So we will not complain Tho' 'e's water on the brain, If 'e leads us straight again- Blue-light Bobs.

If you stood 'im on 'is head Father Bobs, You could spill a quart o' lead Outer Bobs.

'E's been at it thirty years, An' ama.s.sin souveneers In the way o' slugs an' spears- Ain't yer, Bobs?

What 'e does not Know o' war, Gen'ral Bobs, You can arst the shop next door- Can't they, Bobs?

Oh, 'e's little, but he's wise; 'E's a terror for 'is size, An'-'e-does-not-advertise- Do yer, Bobs?

Now they've made a bloomin' Lord Outer Bobs, Which was but 'is fair reward- Weren't it Bobs?

So 'e'll wear a coronet Where 'is 'elmet used to set; But we know you won't forget- Will yer, Bobs?

Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur-- Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!

Pocket-Wellin'ton an' arder-- Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!

This ain't no bloomin' ode, But you've 'elped the soldier's load, An' for benefits bestowed, Bless yer, Bobs!

'Back to the Army Again'

I'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken billyc.o.c.k 'at, A-layin' on to the sergeant I don't know a gun from a bat; My shirt's doin' duty for jacket, my sock's stickin' out o' my boots, An' I'm learnin' the d.a.m.ned old goose-step along o' the new recruits!

Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again.

Don't look so 'ard, for I 'aven't no card, I'm back to the Army again!

I done my six years' service. 'Er Majesty sez: "Good-day-- You'll please to come when you're rung for, an' 'ere's your 'ole back-pay; An' fourpence a day for baccy--an' bloomin' gen'rous, too; An' now you can make your fortune--the same as your orf'cers do."

Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again; 'Ow did I learn to do right-about turn?

I'm back to the Army again!

A man o' four-an'-twenty that 'asn't learned of a trade-- Beside "Reserve" agin' him--'e'd better be never made.

I tried my luck for a quarter, an' that was enough for me, An' I thought of 'Er Majesty's barricks, an' I thought I'd go an' see.

Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again; 'Tisn't my fault if I dress when I 'alt-- I'm back to the Army again!

The sergeant arst no questions, but 'e winked the other eye, 'E sez to me, "'Shun!" an' I shunted, the same as in days gone by; For 'e saw the set o' my shoulders, an' I couldn't 'elp 'oldin' straight When me an' the other rookies come under the barrick-gate.

Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again; 'Oo would ha' thought I could carry an' port?

I'm back to the Army again!

I took my bath, an' I wallered--for, Gawd, I needed it so!

I smelt the smell o' the barricks, I 'eard the bugles go.

I 'eard the feet on the gravel--the feet o' the men what drill-- An' I sez to my flutterin' 'eart-strings, I sez to 'em, "Peace, be still!"

Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again; 'Oo said I knew when the Jumner was due?

I'm back to the Army again!

I carried my slops to the tailor; I sez to 'im, "None o' your lip!

You tight 'em over the shoulders, an' loose 'em over the 'ip, For the set o' the tunic's 'orrid." An' 'e sez to me, "Strike me dead, But I thought you was used to the business!" an' so 'e done what I said.

Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again.

Rather too free with my fancies? Wot--me?

I'm back to the Army again!

Next week I'll 'ave 'em fitted; I'll buy me a swagger-cane; They'll let me free o' the barricks to walk on the Hoe again In the name o' William Parsons, that used to be Edward Clay, An'--any pore beggar that wants it can draw my fourpence a day!

Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again: Out o' the cold an' the rain, sergeant, Out o' the cold an' the rain.

'Oo's there?

A man that's too good to be lost you, A man that is 'andled an' made-- A man that will pay what 'e cost you In learnin' the others their trade--parade!

You're droppin' the pick o' the Army Because you don't 'elp 'em remain, But drives 'em to cheat to get out o' the street An' back to the Army again!

'Birds of Prey' March

March! The mud is cakin' good about our trousies.

Front!--eyes front, an' watch the Colour-casin's drip.

Front! The faces of the women in the 'ouses Ain't the kind o' things to take aboard the ship.

Cheer! An' we'll never march to victory.

Cheer! An' we'll never live to 'ear the cannon roar!

The Large Birds o' Prey They will carry us away, An' you'll never see your soldiers any more!

Wheel! Oh, keep your touch; we're goin' round a corner.

Time!--mark time, an' let the men be'ind us close.

Lord! the transport's full, an' 'alf our lot not on 'er-- Cheer, O cheer! We're going off where no one knows.

March! The Devil's none so black as 'e is painted!

Cheer! We'll 'ave some fun before we're put away.

'Alt, an' 'and 'er out--a woman's gone and fainted!

Cheer! Get on--Gawd 'elp the married men to-day!

Hoi! Come up, you 'ungry beggars, to yer sorrow.

('Ear them say they want their tea, an' want it quick!) You won't have no mind for slingers, not to-morrow-- No; you'll put the 'tween-decks stove out, bein' sick!

'Alt! The married kit 'as all to go before us!

'Course it's blocked the bloomin' gangway up again!

Cheer, O cheer the 'Orse Guards watchin' tender o'er us, Keepin' us since eight this mornin' in the rain!

Stuck in 'eavy marchin'-order, sopped and wringin'-- Sick, before our time to watch 'er 'eave an' fall, 'Ere's your 'appy 'ome at last, an' stop your singin'.