TOMMY AND FRITZ
79
Sometimes he shouts, "Tommy, come over!"
And we fellers bawl out, "Fritz,
If yer wants a good warm breakfast,
Walk up and we'll give you fits!"
And sometimes our great guns begin to growl,
And blows his front line to bits.
And we fellers bawl out, "Fritz,
If yer wants a good warm breakfast,
Walk up and we'll give you fits!"
And sometimes our great guns begin to growl,
And blows his front line to bits.
And when our shrapnel has tore his wire,
And his parapet shows a rent,
We over and pays him a friendly call
With a bayonet—but no harm meant.
And he—well, when he's resuscitate,
He returns us the compliment!
And his parapet shows a rent,
We over and pays him a friendly call
With a bayonet—but no harm meant.
And he—well, when he's resuscitate,
He returns us the compliment!
I stand behind my sand-bag,
And he hides back o' his'en;
And, but for our bloomin' uniforms,
We might both be convicts in pris'n;
And sometimes I loves him a little bit—
And sometimes I 'ate like p'ison.
And he hides back o' his'en;
And, but for our bloomin' uniforms,
We might both be convicts in pris'n;
And sometimes I loves him a little bit—
And sometimes I 'ate like p'ison.
