I.

It ain't a fatigue to see him,
'E's a taller than usual man,
As 'e struts down the road 'e's as smart as be blowed,
And 'is swagger would stop Big Ben,
'E's a fair take-in for the ladies,
For of course it's a maxim trite
When a cove's in the Guards, why it's just on the cards
'E's a bit of the best All-Right.

CHORUS.

Whether 'e wears a 'elmet,
Or 'airy 'at on 'is nut,
When all's done and said, 'E is 'Ousehold Brigade,
Whether 'e's 'Orse or Fut.
(Shouted ad lib.): THAT'S RIGHT
Whether 'e's 'Orse or Fut.

II.

O' course 'e's fond of 'is lady,
'Is lady she doats on 'im,
And it's princip'ly that what's the cause of 'er 'at,
With its feathers and twisted brim.
When 'e takes 'er out of a Sunday
She says, "What a lovely sight!
"Oh! there isn't a doubt, But I'm walking about
"With a bit of the best All-Right."

CHORUS.

And when 'e looks in promisc'ous
'Taint often the door is shut,
For she's fond of a mash, with a curly moustache,
Whether 'e's 'Orse or Fut.
(As before): That's Right
Whether 'e's 'Orse or Fut.

III.

And then, when the war-clouds gather,
On Service 'e goes away;
And it's "Goodbye, Sal, God bless you, my gal!"
And the woman is left to pray.
Then whether it's toil and 'ardship,
Or whether it's march and fight,
'E's a joker, we know, As is certain to show
'E's a bit of the best All-Right.