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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