"We can't afford no corperils. But, some'ow, I dunno,
I got a nervis feelin' in me chest,
That this 'ere bit uv fancy work might be me final go
An' I won't be 'ome to dinner wiv the rest.
It's rot; but it keeps comin' back, that lonely kind o' mood
That fills me up wiv mushy thorts that don't do any good.
"When it's gettin' near to evenin' an' the guns is slowin' down
I fergits the playful 'abits uv our foes,
An' finds meself a-thinkin' thorts uv good ole Melbourne town.
An' dreamin' dilly dreams about ole Rose.
O' course I'll see me girl again, an' give a clean, square deal,
When I come smilin' 'ome again... But that ain't 'ow I feel.
"I feel... I dunno 'ow I feel. I feel that things is done.
I seem t've 'it the limit in some way.
Per'aps I'm orf me pannikin wiv sittin' in the sun,
But I jist wrote to Rose the other day.
An' I wrote 'er sort o' mournful 'cos—I dunno 'ow it seems...
Ar, I'm a gay galoot to go an' 'ave these dilly dreams!
"Wot price the bran' noo corperil, wiv sof 'nin' uv the 'eart!
If my pet lambs thort me a turtle dove
I'd 'ave to be reel stern wiv 'em, an' make another start
To git 'em where I got 'em jist wiv love...
But don't fergit, if you or your Doreen sees Rose about,
Jist tell 'er that I'm well an' strong, an' sure uv winnin' out.
