For to put some lead in a comrade's head was
the greatest fun in life,
And the sharpest joke he was known to poke
was the p'int of his precious knife.
But game to the bone was Phil, I'll own, and
he always fought most fair,
With as good a will to be killed as kill, true
grit as any there:
Of honour too, like me or you, he'd a scent,
though not so keen,