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He growled because the grub was slim,
He sulked and gave the sergeant sass.
He whined because his pay was stop
He howled when they refused a pass.
And when he died and went above
He spoke his mind in accents sharp-
He swore they’d passed him rotten
And belly-ached about his harp.
He joked about the scrubby mess.
He took the sergeant’s jaw with glee.
He chirruped when he wasn’t paid.
And grinned at guard or kitchen P.
And when he died and went below
He joined the most besweated lot.
And guyed them as they fanned and
With, “Hell, you don’t call this place
Officers and men tell us
our Military Supplies are
just what they are looking
COMING THRU THE RYE.
If a body feed a body
On a loaf of rye.
Should a patriotic body
As a loaf that’s fifty-fifty
Is bringing victory nigh.
So save the wheat in fashion thriftly
And glory in the rye.
What’s discomfort to a body
If we their wants supply?
Behold a world democracy
Coming thru the rye!
Sleeping Bags |
In Conservation’s train there’s coming
Freedom for the World.
Food that’s saved is food that’s fight
Where the flag’s unfurled.
We’ve got to teed the men now fight
Feed their babes and wives
We’ve got to give a word of comfort
Where Teuton outrage thrives.
Right cheerfully our men and women
Will now their wants supply.
We’ll save the wheat and thus see
Coming thru the rye.
COME TO SEE US
16 West Trade Street
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