"HANDS ACROSS THE SEA"
We're off for France to make "Fritz" dance
To the tune of shot and shell.
We'll march right in to old Berlin,
And give the Kaiser hell.
The French are right—they'll hold the fight,
And British "drives" are fine;
But Pershing's boys will find but toys
In the "Hindenberger" Line.
We leave hearts dear—the coast we clear
For the ocean's wide expanse.
A submarine on the ocean seen
Will have but little chance.
The cause is just—yet more we trust—
For the Honor debt we owe
Can ne'er be paid. 'Twas the timely aid
Of the Frenchman long ago.
For Lafayette is with us yet,
Still held in memory dear.
Our hearts now burn to give return,
While his name we all revere.
Oh! we're off to France—we want a chance
At the ecstatic thrill
Of being there to have a share
In the funeral of "Kaiser Bill."