" It runs:
"It is said by our commanders that in trenches out by Flanders
There is work to do both trying and exciting,
And the men who man the trenches, they are England's men and
French's
Where the legions of the khaki-clad are fighting.
Though bearing up so gaily they are waiting for us daily,
For the fury of the foemen makes them nervous,
But the foe may look for trouble when we charge them at the double,
We, the London Irish out on active service.
_Chorus._
"With our rifles on our shoulder, sure there's no one could be
bolder,
And we'll double out to France when we get warnin'
And we'll not stop long for trifles, we're the London Irish
Rifles,
When we go to fight the Germans in the mornin'.
"An' the girls: oh it will grieve them when we take the train and
leave them,
Oh! what tears the dears will weep when we are moving,
But it's just the old, old story, on the path that leads to Glory,
Sure we cannot halt for long to do our loving.
They'll see us with emotion all departing o'er the ocean,
And every maid a-weepin' for her lover;
'Good-bye' we'll hear them callin', while so many tears are fallin'
That they'd almost swamp the boat that takes us over.
_Chorus._
"With our rifles," etc.
Our colonel sang this song at a concert, thus showing the democratic
nature of the New Army, where a colonel sings the songs written in the
ranks of his own battalion.
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