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A BOMBER’S LIFE
Tune—‘‘A Policeman’s Life is not a Happy One.”
WHEN our enterprising bombers are not bombing,
And our rifles are not throwing their grenades,
We get tidings that the Gilded Staff are coming,
And we get the men to work with picks and spades.
When our bombing posts at night-time we’re alarming
For surprises by the ever-ready Hun,
And it’s raining and the weather isn’t charming,
Oh, a bomber’s life is not a happy one.
And our rifles are not throwing their grenades,
We get tidings that the Gilded Staff are coming,
And we get the men to work with picks and spades.
When our bombing posts at night-time we’re alarming
For surprises by the ever-ready Hun,
And it’s raining and the weather isn’t charming,
Oh, a bomber’s life is not a happy one.
Chorus—When he’s scheming out surprises for the Hun,
Chorus—Oh, a bomber’s life is not a happy one.
Chorus—Oh, a bomber’s life is not a happy one.
First our bombing post in trenches we are placing
Where the enterprising German might creep in,
Then back homeward for a memo. we are chasing
On a hand grenade deficient of a pin.
Where the enterprising German might creep in,
Then back homeward for a memo. we are chasing
On a hand grenade deficient of a pin.
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