In 1914 a hundred year's ago it seems
When first the world was awakened from its peaceful dream
The bugle called I went away
They said I was a man then
But ah what can I do today
I can't get the old job can't get the new
Can't carry on as I used to do
I look around me and daily I see
Thousands and thousands of fellows
A lot worse off than me
In Piccadilly friends pass me by
I'm absolutely stranded in the Strand
But I confess I was contented more or less
When I was stony broke in No Man's Land
When the fighting was at its fiercest
And everything looked black
This is the promise that cheered us up:
"You'll get the old job back!"
When we crossed shell-swept No Man's Land
Through poison gas attacks
This promise heard:
"If you are scared you'll get the old job back!"
We were not professional soldiers
Fighting was not our game
We were only peaceful citizens
But we fought just the same
We sacrificed our wives and kids and homes
To do our bit
And now the door is closed to us
It seems hard to admit:
I can't get the old job
Can't get a new
Can't carry on as I used to do
I look around me, and daily I see
A lot worse off than me
In Piccadilly friends pass me by
I'm absolutely stranded in the Strand
But I confess I was contented more or less
When I was stony broke in No Man's Land
When first the world was awakened from its peaceful dream
The bugle called I went away
They said I was a man then
But ah what can I do today
I can't get the old job can't get the new
Can't carry on as I used to do
I look around me and daily I see
Thousands and thousands of fellows
A lot worse off than me
In Piccadilly friends pass me by
I'm absolutely stranded in the Strand
But I confess I was contented more or less
When I was stony broke in No Man's Land
When the fighting was at its fiercest
And everything looked black
This is the promise that cheered us up:
"You'll get the old job back!"
When we crossed shell-swept No Man's Land
Through poison gas attacks
This promise heard:
"If you are scared you'll get the old job back!"
We were not professional soldiers
Fighting was not our game
We were only peaceful citizens
But we fought just the same
We sacrificed our wives and kids and homes
To do our bit
And now the door is closed to us
It seems hard to admit:
I can't get the old job
Can't get a new
Can't carry on as I used to do
I look around me, and daily I see
A lot worse off than me
In Piccadilly friends pass me by
I'm absolutely stranded in the Strand
But I confess I was contented more or less
When I was stony broke in No Man's Land
×
![]()
