Barrack-Room Ballads | Page 6

and I'm more than a little sick, But I've had my fun o' the Corp'ral's Guard: I've made the cinders fly, And I'm here in the Clink for a thundering drink
and blacking the Corporal's eye.?With a second-hand overcoat under my head,?And a beautiful view of the yard,?O it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.?For "drunk and resisting the Guard!"?Mad drunk and resisting the Guard --?'Strewth, but I socked it them hard!?So it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.?For "drunk and resisting the Guard."
I started o' canteen porter, I finished o' canteen beer,?But a dose o' gin that a mate slipped in, it was that that brought me here. 'Twas that and an extry double Guard that rubbed my nose in the dirt; But I fell away with the Corp'ral's stock
and the best of the Corp'ral's shirt.
I left my cap in a public-house, my boots in the public road, And Lord knows where, and I don't care, my belt and my tunic goed; They'll stop my pay, they'll cut away the stripes I used to wear, But I left my mark on the Corp'ral's face, and I think he'll keep it there!
My wife she cries on the barrack-gate, my kid in the barrack-yard, It ain't that I mind the Ord'ly room -- it's that that cuts so hard. I'll take my oath before them both that I will sure abstain, But as soon as I'm in with a mate and gin, I know I'll do it again!
With a second-hand overcoat under my head,?And a beautiful view of the yard,?Yes, it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.?For "drunk and resisting the Guard!"?Mad drunk and resisting the Guard --?'Strewth, but I socked it them hard!?So it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.?For "drunk and resisting the Guard."
Gunga Din
You may talk o' gin and beer?When you're quartered safe out 'ere,?An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;?But when it comes to slaughter?You will do your work on water,?An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.?Now in Injia's sunny clime,?Where I used to spend my time?A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen,?Of all them blackfaced crew?The finest man I knew?Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
He was "Din! Din! Din!?You limpin' lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din!
Hi! slippery hitherao!?Water, get it! Panee lao!?You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din."
The uniform 'e wore?Was nothin' much before,?An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind,?For a piece o' twisty rag?An' a goatskin water-bag?Was all the field-equipment 'e could find.?When the sweatin' troop-train lay?In a sidin' through the day,?Where the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl,?We shouted "Harry By!"?Till our throats were bricky-dry,?Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all.
It was "Din! Din! Din!?You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been?
You put some juldee in it?Or I'll marrow you this minute?If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!"
'E would dot an' carry one?Till the longest day was done;?An' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear.?If we charged or broke or cut,?You could bet your bloomin' nut,?'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear.?With 'is mussick on 'is back,?'E would skip with our attack,?An' watch us till the bugles made "Retire",?An' for all 'is dirty 'ide?'E was white, clear white, inside?When 'e went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was "Din! Din! Din!"?With the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green.
When the cartridges ran out,?You could hear the front-files shout,?"Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!"
I shan't forgit the night?When I dropped be'ind the fight?With a bullet where my belt-plate should 'a' been.?I was chokin' mad with thirst,?An' the man that spied me first?Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din.?'E lifted up my 'ead,?An' he plugged me where I bled,?An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' water-green:?It was crawlin' and it stunk,?But of all the drinks I've drunk,?I'm gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
It was "Din! Din! Din!?'Ere's a beggar with a bullet through 'is spleen;
'E's chawin' up the ground,?An' 'e's kickin' all around:?For Gawd's sake git the water, Gunga Din!"
'E carried me away?To where a dooli lay,?An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean.?'E put me safe inside,?An' just before 'e died,?"I 'ope you liked your drink", sez Gunga Din.?So I'll meet 'im later on?At the place where 'e is gone --?Where it's always double drill and no canteen;?'E'll be squattin' on the coals?Givin' drink to poor damned souls,?An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!?You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I've belted you and flayed you,?By the livin' Gawd that made you,?You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
Oonts
(Northern India Transport Train)
Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes 'im to perspire? It isn't standin' up to charge nor lyin' down to fire;?But it's everlastin' waitin' on a everlastin' road?For the commissariat camel an' 'is commissariat