Barrack Room Ballads

'Bobs'

   There's a little red-faced man,
          Which is Bobs,
   Rides the tallest 'orse 'e can-
          Our Bobs,
   If it bucks or kicks or rears,
   'E can sit for twenty years
   With a smile round both 'is ears-
         Can't yer, Bobs?

   Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur-
        Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!
   'E's or pukka Kandaharder-
        Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!
   'E's the Dook of Aggy Chel;
   'E's the man that done us well,
   An' we'll follow 'im to 'ell-
        Won't we Bobs?

   If a limber's slipped a trace,
        'Ook on Bobs.
   If a marker's lost 'is place,
        Dress by Bobs.
   For 'e's eyes all up 'is coat,
   An' a bugle in 'is throat,
   An' you will not play the goat
        Under Bobs.

   'E's a little down on drink,
         Chaplain Bobs;
   But it keeps us outer Clink-
        Don't it Bobs?
   So we will not complain
   Tho' 'e's water on the brain,
   If 'e leads us straight again-
        Blue-light Bobs.

   If you stood 'im on 'is head
        Father Bobs,
   You could spill a quart o' lead
        Outer Bobs.
   'E's been at it thirty years,
   An' amassin souveneers
   In the way o' slugs an' spears-
        Ain't yer, Bobs?

   What 'e does not Know o' war,
        Gen'ral Bobs,
   You can arst the shop next door-
       Can't they, Bobs?
   Oh, 'e's little, but he's wise;
   'E's a terror for 'is size,
   An'-'e-does-not-advertise-
       Do yer, Bobs?

   Now they've made a bloomin' Lord
        Outer Bobs,
   Which was but 'is fair reward-
         Weren't it Bobs?
   So 'e'll wear a coronet
   Where 'is 'elmet used to set;
   But we know you won't forget-
        Will yer, Bobs?

   Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur—
       Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!
   Pocket-Wellin'ton an' arder—
       Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!
   This ain't no bloomin' ode,
   But you've 'elped the soldier's load,
   An' for benefits bestowed,
       Bless yer, Bobs!