Isn't it, isn't it, terribly exciting,
We're going abroad where we've not been before
It'll be over soon, and there won't be much fighting
More like a tea-treat than war !
We're going to travel to far foreign parts
While you poor sods just sit on yer arse
We'll be fed, we'll be paid, we'll have billets and beds
And when we come home, the pick of the tarts!
So now we're in France
And you just have to glance
At the ambulance trains to see
That perhaps we were wrong
This might go on too long
And not be a picnic for we.
Left right, left right,
Hear the guns they've been banging all night
Eyes front, we're going to the front
I've a horrible feeling we're going to fight.
© nigel hallworth 2014