Page:War, the Liberator (1918).djvu/38

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Go and help to swell the names
In the casualty lists.
Help to make a column’s stuff
For the blasted journalists.

Help to keep them nice and safe
From the wicked German foe.
Don’t let him come over here!
“Lads, you’re wanted—out you go.”



There’s a better word than that,
Lads, and can’t you hear it come
From a million men that call
You to share their martyrdom,

Leave the harlots still to sing
Comic songs about the Hun,
Leave the fat old men to say
Now we’ve got them on the run.

Better twenty honest years
Than their dull three score and ten.
Lads, you’re wanted. Come and learn
To live and die with honest men.

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