And a general 'urrying up for stror 'ats, lemon squoshes, and beer.
It seems only yesterday, Charlie, the standpipes wos up in our street,
And "Are you froze off?" wos the question of every poor pal you might meet.
And now there's a new "water famine" along o' the 'eat, not the cold,
And ginger-pop's sellin' as fast as it can be unbottled and sold.
Queen's droring-rooms, troopin' the colours, and trotting young Nasrulla round,
Is sights your true patriot's nuts on, and I've done my bit, you be bound.
I chi-iked to young Ingy-rubber, and give him the haffable nod;
And if H. R. H. didn't twig me, and drop me a smile, well, it's odd.
Hart's 'aving its innings, as usual, and so is old W. G.,