Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads/Cells

by Rudyard Kipling

For other versions of this work, see Cells.

Layout 2

 

CELLS

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.

  With a second-hand overcoat under my head,
  And a beautiful view of the yard,
Oh, 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!
So it’s pack-drill for me and a fortnight’s C.B.
  For ‘drunk and resisting the Guard.’

I started o’ canteen porter, I finished o’ canteen beer,
But a dose o’ gin that a mate slipped in, it was that brought me here.
’Twas that and an extry double Guard that rubbed my nose in the dirt;
But I fell away with the Corp’ral’s stock and the best of the Corp’ral’s shirt.

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!

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!

  With a second-hand overcoat under my head
  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!
So it’s pack-drill with me and a fortnight’s C.B.
  For ‘drunk and resisting the Guard.’