And when it’s working overtime I sweat from every pore,
In my cosy little dug-out on the hill.
When the nights are clear and starry—then the scene is beautified
By the silvery gleams and shadows that across the mountain glide;
But if it’s wet and stormy—well, I go to sleep outside
Of my cosy little dug-out on the hill.[19]
When the time comes round for parting from my little eight by four,
And I can get a good night’s rest without a back that’s sore,
Well—perhaps some day I’ll miss you, and will long to live once more
In the little cosy dug-out on the hill.