Yer know one of ’em saved my life,
Else I would not be here to-day.
’Twas when the “Black Horse Cavalcade”
Swept down on our small brigade,
I got the shot that made me lame,
When down on me a trooper came,
And this ’ere chap struck up his blade.
Poor feller! He was stricken dead;
The trooper’s sabre cleaved his head.
Joe Billings was my comrade’s name,