No more than most of us to-day;
I runs a business with a pal
(Meaning the Missis) Fulham way;
Greengrocery—the cabbages
And fruit and things I take meself,
And she has daffs and crocuses
A-smiling on a shelf.
"Blighty," I thinks. The doctor knows;
'E talks of punctured damn-the-things.
It's me for Blighty. Down I goes;