Classic Poem

We're goin' easy now a bit, all dressed in blighty blue,
We've 'eld the trenches eighteen months and copped some packets too,
We've met the Boches on the Marne and fought them on the Aisne,
We broke 'em up at New Chapelle and 'ere we are again.
The ole sweats —
All that is left of the ole sweats.
More went away than are with us to-day.
Gawd! but we miss 'em, the ole sweats.

And now that we've a blighty one we don't know what to do! —
Just swing the lead; the Darby boys will see the bisness through,
They'll 'ave a bit o' carry on, o' fightin' and o' fun,
They'll 'ave the ribbons when they end the work that we begun.
The ole sweats —
Devils for fun were the ole sweats,
In love or a scrap sure they always went nap,
They 'adn't 'arf guts had the ole sweats.

But the old sweats they never die, they only fade away
And others come to take their place, 'ot on the doin's they:
They're drillin' up from day to day, at it at dusk and dawn,
But they'll need it all to fill the shoes of blokes that now are gone;
The ole sweats,
The ole daisy-shovers, the ole sweats.
The new 'uns it's said they are smart on parade,
But, Gawd, there is none like the ole sweats.

We're out 't for duration now and do not care a cuss,
There's beer to spare at dinner time and afters now for us,
But if our butty's still were out in Flanders raisin' Cain,
We'd weather through with those we knew on bully beef again.
The ole sweats —
The grub it was skimp with the ole sweats.
But if rashuns was small 'twas the same for us all,
Same for the 'ole of the ole sweats.

Well, if you want a sooveneer, a bit of blighty blue,
There's empty tunic sleeves to spare, a trousers leg or two,
And some day when you see us stand on Charing Cross parade,
Present a boot before us just to 'elp us at our trade.
The ole sweats —
Tuppence a shine with the ole sweats.
So you'll give us a show when you see us, we know,
Us that is left of the ole sweats.