CARRYING-PARTY
Time 10.30 p.m. Place, Communication Trenches.
Wire over'ead!
Mud underfoot:
Gawd, I'm into a hole,
Pullin' the sole
Right off'en me boot—
I wish I was dead!
Mud underfoot:
Gawd, I'm into a hole,
Pullin' the sole
Right off'en me boot—
I wish I was dead!
Wire over'ead—
(My load weighs like lead)
The night's black as 'ell;
I'm into a ditch—
Ye son of a bitch!
'Twas here Nelson fell—
Bang! There goes a shell—
I wish I was dead!
(My load weighs like lead)
The night's black as 'ell;
I'm into a ditch—
Ye son of a bitch!
'Twas here Nelson fell—
Bang! There goes a shell—
I wish I was dead!
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