Here’s to the soldiers that march to the wars With lovely tin hats and long woollen drawers The Colonel says ‘Right lads, over the top!’ Then he stands back to watch while the poor buggers drop
Buy us a drink and I’ll sing you a song Of the chances you missed and the love that went wrong If you can’t buy us a whiskey stand us a pint I’ll knock it straight down and I’ll sing it again
There’s girls in the parlour, there’s girls in the bars They paint on the smile so you don’t see the scars They get lots of offers and not much respect For raisin’ three kids on a government cheque
Drink it down, boys down As long as there’s life in the day For you’ll get no more sup when your number is up And they lay you to rot in the clay
Then in comes the landlord so fat and content Comes round in his Volvo to pick up the rent Then off with his wad to recline by the pool He leaves you to rot in this shitty old hole
It’s the taste of the whisky to tell you the truth Has shortened my days and wasted my youth Be kind to the health sir, do it no harm Put a pint of the black on the end of my arm