’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 Sowdan;
You’re a poor benighted ’eathen but a first-class fightin’ man;
We give you your certifikit, and if you want it signed
We’ll come an’ have a romp with you whenever you’re inclined.
We took our chanst among the Kyber hills,
The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,
The Burman guv us Irriwaddy chills,
An’ a Zulu impi dished us up in style;