(Chorus)
"O, look at him, Ma-ma, ain't he simply grand?
See the way he holds his gun and swings his other hand.
The Captain's walking up in front, and now he's calling 'hep,'
And everyone but my papa is marching out of step."
II
O, Willie Jones, he loved to see the soldiers marching by,
He went down to the target range to see the bullets fly,
And every time they made a shot, he cried "Ain't that a beaut!"
And clapped his hands in glee to see his papa start to shoot.
(Chorus)
"O, look at him, Ma-ma, see him hold his gun,
And every time he shoots it off it hits him on the bun.
He puts his hand around the thing and gives an awful pull,
The red flag there is waving, O! it must have been a bull."