quarta-feira, junho 28, 2006

Oh, I don't want to be soldier
Oh, I don't want to be a soldier
I don't want to join the fightin' class
I just want to go
Down to old Soho
Pinchin' all the girlies in the shoulder blades
Oh, I don't want to see the Queen's dominions
Why -London's- full o' girls I've never 'ad
I just want to stay in England
Jolly jolly England
And follow in the footsteps of me dad

So call out the members of the Queen's Marines
Call out the King's Artillery
Call out me mother
Me sister and me brother
But for Chrissake don't call me

Monday night me 'and was on her ankle
Tuesday night me 'and was on her knees
Wednesday night, success!
I lifted up her dress
Thursday night I lifted up her silk chemise
Well, Friday night I got me 'and upon it
Saturday night I gave it just a tweak
Sunday after supper
I finally got in up her
And now I'm payin' thirty bob a week (Gorblimey...)

Call out the members of the Queen's Marines
Call out the King's Artillery
Call out me mother
Me sister and me brother
But for Chrissake don't call me

Oh, I don't want to join the Navy
And I don't want to go to war
I just want to 'ang around
Piccadilly underground
Livin' off the earnings of an 'igh-class lady
I don't want a bullet up me backside
An' I don't want me knockers shot away
I just want to stay in England
Jolly jolly England
And fornicate me bloomin' life away

So call out the members of the Queen's Marines
Call out the King's Artillery
Call out me mother
Me sister and me brother
But for Chrissake don't call me


Cancao popular inglesa do tempo da Primeira Grande Guerra