As you stand there grippin’ that rifle,

A standin’ and chilled to the bone,

Wonderin’ and wonderin’ and wonderin,’

Just thinkin’ there—all alone!

When will the war be over?

When will the gang break through?

What will the U. S. look like?

What will there be to do?

Where will the Boshes be then?

Who will have married Nell?