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| I’VE a head like a concertina, I’ve a tongue like a button-stick, | |
| I’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. | |
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| With a second-hand overcoat under my head, | 5 |
| And a beautiful view of the yard, | |
| O 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! | 10 |
| So it’s pack-drill for me and a fortnight’s C. B. | |
| For “drunk and resisting the Guard.” | |
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| I started o’ canteen porter, I finished o’ canteen beer, | |
| But a dose o’ gin that a mate slipped in, it was that that brought me here. | |
| ’Twas that and an extry double Guard that rubbed my nose in the dirt— | 15 |
| But I fell away with the Corp’ral’s stock and the best of the Corp’ral’s shirt. | |
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| 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! | 20 |
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| 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! | |
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| With a second-hand overcoat under my head, | 25 |
| 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! | 30 |
| So it’s pack-drill for me and a fortnight’s C. B. | |
| For “drunk and resisting the Guard.” | |
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