I ain't a singer, but I sings;
"Oh, 'oo goes 'ome?" I sort of 'ums;
"Oh, 'oo's for dear old England's shores?"
And by-and-by Southampton comes—
"Blighty!" I says and roars.
I s'pose I thort I done my bit;
I s'pose I thort the War would stop;
I saw myself a-getting fit
With Missis at the little shop;
The same like as it used to be,