Squads East, Squads West, Right Front Into Line—
The dirty bunch of loafers, they give us double time;
Then it’s home boys, home;
That’s where we ought to be,
Home, boys, home, to the land of liberty;
We’ll hoist Old Glory to the top of the pole
And we’ll all re-enlist—when the weather gets cold.
That wasn’t the way we sang it,
To comrades garbed in O.D.;
There’s some may tell