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CELLS
I’VE a head
like a concertina: I’ve a tongue like a button-stickI’ve a mouth like an old potato, 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, Oh, 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 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 with me and a fortnight’s C.B. For ‘drunk and resisting the Guard.’ |
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