'FUZZY-WUZZY'

(SOUDAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE)

WE'VE fought with many men acrost the seas,
An' some of 'em was brave an' some was not

The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese;

But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot. We never got a ha'porth's change of 'im:

'E squatted in the scrub an' 'ocked our 'orses, 'E cut our sentries up at Suakim,

An' 'e played the cat an' banjo with our forces.

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome

in the Soudan;

You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a firstclass fightin' man;

We gives you your certificate, an' if you want

it signed

We'll come an' 'ave a romp with

ever you're inclined.

you when

We took our chanst among the Kyber 'ills,
The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,
The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,

An' a Zulu impi dished us up in style:
But all we ever got from such as they

Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller ; We 'eld our bloomin' own, the papers say, But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us 'oller. Then 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' the missis and the kid;

Our orders was to break you, an' of course we went an' did.

We sloshed you with Martinis, an' it wasn't'ardly fair;

But for all the odds agin' you, Fuzzy-Wuz you broke the square.

'E 'asn't got no papers of 'is own,

'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards,

So we must certify the skill 'e's shown

In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords:
When 'e's 'oppin' in an' out among the bush
With 'is coffin-'eaded shield an' shovel-spear,

An 'appy day with Fuzzy on the rush

Will last an 'ealthy Tommy for a year.

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' your
friends which are no more,

If we 'adn't lost some messmates we would

'elp you to deplore;

But give an' take's the gospel, an' we'll call
the bargain fair,

For if you 'ave lost more than us, you
crumpled up the square!

'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,
An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our 'ead;
'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive,

An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's dead. 'E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb!

'E's a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,

'E's the on'y thing that doesn't give a damn For a Regiment o' British Infantree!

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome

in the Soudan;

You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first

class fightin' man;

An' 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your
'ayrick 'ead of 'air-

You big black boundin' beggar-for you broke

a British square!

SOLDIER, SOLDIER

'SOLDIER, Soldier, come from the wars,

Why don't you march with my true love?' 'We're fresh from off the ship an' 'e's maybe give

the slip,

An' you'd best go look for a new love.'

New love! True love!

Best go look for a new love,

The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better

dry your eyes,

An' you'd best go look for a new love.

'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars,

What did you see o' my true love?'

'I seed 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rifle-green, An' you'd best go look for a new love.'

'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars, Did ye see no more o' my true love?'

'I seed 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to flyBut you'd best go look for a new love.'

'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars,

Did aught take 'arm to my true love?'

'I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white

An' you'd best go look for a new love.'

'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars,

I'll up an' tend to my true love!'

"E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead, An' you'd best go look for a new love.'

'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars,

I'll down an' die with my true love!'

"The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside

'im

An' you'd best go look for a new love.'

'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars,

Do you bring no sign from my true love?'

'I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,

An' you'd best go look for a new love.'