Digging all day and digging all night

To keep my foxhole out of sight

Digging into dinner on a plate on my knees

The smell of damp webbing in the morning breeze

Fear in my stomach, fear in the sky

I eat my dinner with a weary eye

After all this it won't be the same

Messing around on Salisbury Plain





Pick up your feet, fall in, move out

We're going to a party way down South

Me and the Corporal out on a spree

Damned from here to eternity



I can already taste the blood in my mouth

We're going to a party way down south



I hate this flat land, there's no cover

for sons and fathers and brothers and lovers

I can take the killing, I can take the slaughter

But I don't talk to Sun reporters

I never thought that I would be

Fighting fascists in the Southern Sea

I saw one today and in his hand

Was a weapon that was made in Birmingham





Pick up your feet, fall in, move out

We're going to a party way down South

Me and the Corporal out on a spree

Damned from here to eternity



I can already taste the blood in my mouth

We're going to a party way down south



I wish Kipling and the Captain were here

To record our pursuits for posterity

Me and the Corporal out on a spree

Damned from here to eternity