rs vill pe done
Since ve march into Belgium von day,
But since den some beeg rifers have run
Troo de pridges, I tink all de vay,
Den already de tings seemed so blain,
Ven ve shtart oudt to lick de whole vorld
Ve vas sure dat us Shermans vould reign
Shoost verefer our flag vas unfurled.

For to see dat some tings can't pe done
All dose Junker man's heads vas too tick,
Und, inshtead of a blace in de sun,
Ve haf got, vot you call, armyshtick.
Vot dot armyshtick baper's aboudt
I can't get troo dis headpiece of mine
But dose fellers dot von wrote it oudt,
Und us fellers dat lost had to sign.

Shoost so soon vas dat Armyshtick made
Den dose allies dey run de whole show,
For already deir plans vas all laid
Ven ve back into Shermany go.
Dere vas fellers from England und France,
Und Yankees, Italians und Japs,
Mit some hoboes dat all get a chance
From some blaces not marked on de maps.

For six months now dey talk und dey shmoke,
Mit no Shermans at all in de game
Und dey tink up von pully goot shoke,
Den dey tell us to write down our name.
Dey vould take all our money und ships,
Und dose blace in de sun dat ve got.
But we ain't handing oudt no free trips,
Und won't sign no beace dreaty like dot.

WHAT WE WON

Was it for this, I want to know,
We saw our boys to Flanders go;
For this that Belgium suffered so,
That France withstood the ruthless foe,
And said "No further shalt thou go,"
That Serbia was plunged in woe,
And women wept along the Po;
That Poles were herded to and fro,
And Anzacs died at Gallipo;
That Britain let her plans all go,
Laid bare her breast, and took the blow,
And held the seas 'neath sun and snow
Danger above and death below;
That Uncle Sam, though rather slow
To scrap the doctrine of Monroe,
Got busy at the final show?

For years of blood and tears, although
We boast the Kaiser's overthrow,
The net results seem these, I trow,
That profiteers pile up the dough,
And gather where they did not sow,
That scythes of death fresh harvests mow,
Where Bolshevists fierce whiskers grow,
And no Hun yet has eaten crow;
That Wild Sinn Feiners, fallen low,
Plan proud Britannia's overthrow,
Save these the world can little show,
B