When This Bloody War Is Over
anonimo
| Seconda versione, sempre britannica, sempre risalente alla seconda... | |
| WHEN THIS BLOODY WAR IS OVER When this bloody war is over Oh, how happy I will be; When I get my civvy clothes on No more soldiering for me. No more church parades on Sunday No more begging for a pass; I will tell the Sergeant Major To stuff his passes up his ass. I will sound my own reveille I will beat my own tattoo; No more NCOs to curse me, No more fucking Army stew. | WHEN THIS BLOODY WAR IS OVER When this bloody war is over No more soldiering for me When I get my civvy clothes on Oh how happy I will be No more Church parades on Sunday No more putting in for leave How I'll miss the sergeant major How his poor old heart will grieve When this bloody war is over No more soldiering for me When I get my civvy clothes on Oh how happy I will be No more standing to attention No more asking for a weekend pass You can tell the sergeant major Where to stuff his bleeding pass When this bloody war is over No more soldiering for me When I get my civvy clothes on Oh how happy I will be No more putting in for furlough Only one more church parade No more shitting in a slit trench No more Tickler's marmalade (*) (*) La marmellata di Tickler, nella sua tipica confezione di latta, era un componente essenziale delle razioni militari dei soldati britannici. |
