Not ‘on the strength,’ you bet!
An’ ’tis ’ard to be leavin’ her lonely,
Though I hopes we’ll be married yet,—
But there’s death lurkin’ down in they kopjes,
And graves in the golden Transvaal—
Never mind!—it’s for king and country—
But—just look after my gal!
REFRAIN
“Just look after my gal, will ye?
While I’m frontin’ the fire an’ the foe—