A Song of 2d Class 1853 & 4

 

Tune “Widow Machree”

 

My dear Commandant ‘tis no wonder you frown

Och-one Major R.G.

Popularity for you is fast going down

Och-one Major R.G.

How altered our air, with these dress caps we wear,

You have cut off our hair, which should be flowing free,

There’s no longer a churl, that can boast of one curl

Och-one Major R.G.

 

Then my dear Commandant you’ve reported us so

O’chone Major R.G.

That how to prevent being found we don’t know,

Ochone Major R.G.

To hand in an excuse is no manner of use,

Some cause for abuse, you will try hard to see,

And unless milk & water it’s of course quite “improper

Ochone Major R.G.

 

Then your drills are so long and so tiresome too,

Ochone Major R.G.

We are quite sick and tired of hearing “one, two”

Ochone Major R.G.

We’ve become so disgusted, that when we are mustered

As we long for the time when from you we’ll be free

We dread a review, before we get through

Ochone Major R.G.

 

Now Major R.G. not to tell you a lie

Ochone Major R.G.

I don’t think it’s exactly quite proper to spy

Ochone Major R.G.

We are really afraid, when we go out to parade

As you stand in the shade, or behind some big tree

That you’ll “pink” half the Corps, and perhaps a few more

Ochone Major R.G.

 

Now take my advice my dear Major R.G.

Ochone Major R.G.

Or from somebody else, indirectly from me,

Ochone Major R.G.

Let us be as before you first came to the Corps

And don’t drill us from 4 till the time’s past for tea

And don’t watch like a ferret to give us demerit

Ochone Major R.G.

 

Respectfully Submitted


 



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