There was no one like `im, `Orse or Foot,
Nor any o` the Guns I knew;
An` because it was so, why, o` course `e went an` died,
Which is just what the best men do.
So it`s knock out your pipes an` follow me!
An` it`s finish up your swipes an` follow me!
Oh, `ark to the big drum callin`,
Follow me -- follow me `ome!
`Is mare she neighs the `ole day long,
She paws the `ole night through,
An` she won`t take `er feed `cause o` waitin` for `is step,
Which is just what a beast would do.
`Is girl she goes with a bombardier
Before `er month is through;
An` the banns are up in church, for she`s got the beggar hooked,
Which is just what a girl would do.
We fought `bout a dog -- last week it were --
No more than a round or two;
But I strook `im cruel `ard, an` I wish I `adn`t now,
Which is just what a man can`t do.
`E was all that I `ad in the way of a friend,
An` I`ve `ad to find one new;
But I`d give my pay an` stripe for to get the beggar back,
Which it`s just too late to do.
So it`s knock out your pipes an` follow me!
An` it`s finish off your swipes an` follow me!
Oh, `ark to the fifes a-crawlin`!
Follow me -- follow me `ome!
Take `im away! `E`s gone where the best men go.
Take `im away! An` the gun-wheels turnin` slow.
Take `im away! There`s more from the place `e come.
Take `im away, with the limber an` the drum.
For it`s "Three rounds blank" an` follow me,
An` it`s "Thirteen rank" an` follow me;
Oh, passin` the love o` women,
Follow me -- follow me `ome!