Oh, we are the boys, we are the lads in khakhi
We are the boys that are always gay and hearty
Oh we don’t give a shrew when we hear the bugle blow
The good old call that suits us all is ‘Come to the cookhouse door!’
Now when I was on the firing range and fired my first five
The folks all living on Bletchingdon Hill, they’re lucky they are alive
For the first shot that I fired, it nearly killed a cow
The second made thе skin fly off old Georgie Bailey’s sow
Thе third one hit the sergeant on his tarara-boom-di-ay
It made him sing ‘God Save the King’ and ‘Yipp-iady-iay!’
Oh, we are the boys, we are the lads in khakhi
We are the boys that are always gay and hearty
Oh we don’t give a shrew when we hear the bugle blow
The good old call that suits us all is ‘Come to the cookhouse door!’
Oh, we are the boys, we are the lads in khakhi
We are the boys that are always gay and hearty
Oh we don’t give a shrew when we hear the bugle blow
The good old call that suits us all is ‘Come to the cookhouse door!’
Now the first time I was in a campaign I was under heavy fire
The captain gave the order for his company to retire
All the lads they doubled back except me and I stood
And with the fright I got that night I was standing like a block of wood
Now when the captain saw it he came running up to me
He said, ‘Young man, you’ll get a new suit just for your bravery’
By God, I were frightened and I didn’t know what to do
I said, ‘If you please sir, could you oblige me with the trousers now?’
Oh, we are the boys, we are the lads in khakhi
We are the boys that are always gay and hearty
Oh we don’t give a shrew when we hear the bugle blow
The good old call that suits us all is ‘Come to the cookhouse door!’
We are the boys that are always gay and hearty
Oh we don’t give a shrew when we hear the bugle blow
The good old call that suits us all is ‘Come to the cookhouse door!’
Now when I was on the firing range and fired my first five
The folks all living on Bletchingdon Hill, they’re lucky they are alive
For the first shot that I fired, it nearly killed a cow
The second made thе skin fly off old Georgie Bailey’s sow
Thе third one hit the sergeant on his tarara-boom-di-ay
It made him sing ‘God Save the King’ and ‘Yipp-iady-iay!’
Oh, we are the boys, we are the lads in khakhi
We are the boys that are always gay and hearty
Oh we don’t give a shrew when we hear the bugle blow
The good old call that suits us all is ‘Come to the cookhouse door!’
Oh, we are the boys, we are the lads in khakhi
We are the boys that are always gay and hearty
Oh we don’t give a shrew when we hear the bugle blow
The good old call that suits us all is ‘Come to the cookhouse door!’
Now the first time I was in a campaign I was under heavy fire
The captain gave the order for his company to retire
All the lads they doubled back except me and I stood
And with the fright I got that night I was standing like a block of wood
Now when the captain saw it he came running up to me
He said, ‘Young man, you’ll get a new suit just for your bravery’
By God, I were frightened and I didn’t know what to do
I said, ‘If you please sir, could you oblige me with the trousers now?’
Oh, we are the boys, we are the lads in khakhi
We are the boys that are always gay and hearty
Oh we don’t give a shrew when we hear the bugle blow
The good old call that suits us all is ‘Come to the cookhouse door!’
( Sods' Opera )
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