With the blood flowing out in a crimson tide

From a gaping hole in his quivering side.

Don't sicken and pale at the sight you see,

For this is where only men should be.

Rataplan! Rataplan! Rataplan!

Follow me, follow me, every true man!

Come with me over the battle field, come!

Follow the drum, the drum, the drum!

Through the smoke and heat and the storm of lead,

Adown this gulley piled deep with dead;