Oh my husband's in Salonika and I wonder if he's dead I wonder if he knows he has got a kid with a foxy head And when the war is over, what will the slackers do? They'll be around the soldiers for the loan of a bob or two
So right away, so right away So right away, Salonika Right away, my soldier boy
And when the war is over, what will the soldiers do? They'll walk around with a leg or two and the slackers they'll have two And when the war is over, what will the slackers do? For every Kid in America, in Cork there will be two
So right away, so right away So right away, Salonika Right away, my soldier boy
Now they taxed their pound of butter and they taxend their ha'penny bun And still with all their taxes they can't beat the bloody hun They taxed the Coliseum, and they taxed St. Mary's Hall Why don't they tax the bobbies wi' their backs against the wall?
So right away, so right away So right away, Salonika Right away, my soldier boy
For they takes us out to Blarney and they lays us on the Grass Puts us in the familiy way and leaves us on our ass And never marry a soldier, a sailor or a Marine Keep your eyes on the Irish boy, his yellow, white and green
So right away, so right away So right away, Salonika Right away, my soldier boy