‘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 yearsWith a smile round both ‘is ears-Can’t yer, Bobs?
Then ’ere’s to Bobs Bahadur-Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!‘E’s our pukka Kandahader-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 goatUnder Bobs.
‘E’s a little down on drink,Chaplain Bobs;But it keeps us outer Clink-Don’t it Bobs?So we will not complainTho’ ‘e’s water on the brain,If ‘e leads us straight again-Blue-light Bobs.
If you stood ‘im on ‘is headFather Bobs,You could spill a quart o’ leadOuter Bobs.‘E’s been at it thirty years,An’ amassin’ souveneersIn 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’ LordOuter Bobs,Which was but ‘is fair reward-Weren’t it Bobs?So ‘e’ll wear a coronetWhere ‘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!