They're passing conscription, the only prescription
To make Englishmen go to the front, me boys.
II
Your boss, he won't go to the war, me boys,
Hun bullets do him so annoy, me boys,
So kindly he frees you, he does it to squeeze you
To fight for his money and him, me boys;
They've hunger conscription in Ireland, boys,
You'll starve till you're thin as a wire, me boys,
You'll get very thin, but you won't care a pin