Rudyard Kipling(1865–1936)

Tommy

I went into a public-'ouse 0 to get a pint o'beer,bar

The publican 0 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here.barkeep

The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,

I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:

O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away;

But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins, when the band begins to play—

The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,

O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins, when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,

They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;

They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,2

But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside;

But its "Special train for Atkins when the trooper's on the tide—

The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,

O it's "Special train for Atkins when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep

Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;

An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit

Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.equipment

Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul

But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes3 when the drums begin to roll—

The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,

O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards 0 too, criminals

But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;

An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,

Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,

But it's "Please to walk in front, sir, when there's trouble in the

wind—

There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,

O it's "Please to walk in front, sir, when there's trouble in the

wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:

We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.

Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face

The Widow's Uniform4 is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the

brute!

But it's "Saviour of 'is country when the guns begin to shoot;

An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;

An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool—you bet that Tommy sees!