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Led lives of ease when all their foes they'd mastered And every night so they relate The whold darned gang would congregate In some swell bar, and stick till they were plastered And when the bugler buged at dawn They heave a shoe at him and yawn Snooze until noon before they donned their armour But ancient customs are no more. We now turn out at half-past-four And answer reveille in our pajamas. V We leave our homes and come to France To kick the dirty Dutchman's pants And leave behind the girl that we've been rushing