GRENADIER BERTIE

I’m Grenadier Bertie, I rise at six thirty,
and on to parade I do stroll,
I walk on the square feeling full of despair,
When old ‘Breezy’ shouts out “Call the roll”,

I first loose my name for a dirty curb chain,
Dirty Boots, Dirty brasses and then for a shave,
'Cos I’m Swab, Swab, I’m in a posh mob,

If they ask me to sign on I’ll say “No”
I’ve just had a guard order and got off bad order,
And now I’m to show T.F.O.