Go and help to swell the namesIn the casualty lists.Help to make a column’s stuffFor the blasted journalists.
Help to keep them nice and safeFrom the wicked German foe.Don’t let him come over here!“Lads, you’re wanted—out you go.”
•••••
There’s a better word than that,Lads, and can’t you hear it comeFrom a million men that callYou to share their martyrdom,
Leave the harlots still to singComic songs about the Hun,Leave the fat old men to sayNow we’ve got them on the run.
Better twenty honest yearsThan their dull three score and ten.Lads, you’re wanted. Come and learnTo live and die with honest men.
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