My girl she give me the go onest, When I was a London lad; An I went on the drink for a fortnight, An then I went to the bad. The Queen she give me a shillin To fight for er over the seas; But Guvment built me a fever-trap, An Injia give me disease. (Chorus) Ho! dont you eed what a girl says, An dont you go for the beer; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An that is why Im ere. I fired a shot at a Afghan, The beggar e fired again, An I lay on my bed with a ole in my ed, An missed the next campaign! I up with my gun at a Burman Who carried a bloomin dah, But the cartridge stuck and the baynit bruk, An all I got was the scar. (Chorus) Ho! dont you aim at a Afghan, When you stand on the skyline clear; An dont you go for a Burman If none o your friends is near. I served my time for a Corpral, An wetted my stripes with pop, For I went on the bend with a intimate friend, An finished the night in the shop. I served my time for a Sergeant; The Colonel e sez No! The most youll see is a full C.B. An . . . very next night twas so! (Chorus) Ho! dont you go for a Corpral Unless your ed is clear; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An that is why Im ere. Ive tasted the luck o the Army In barrack an camp an clink, An I lost my tip through the bloomin trip Along o the women an drink. Im down at the heel o my service, An when I am laid on the shelf, My very worst friend from beginning to end By the blood of a mouse was myself! (Chorus) Ho! dont you eed what a girl says, An dont you go for the beer; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An that is why Im ere!