ARTILLERY REGISTERING.

By Erwin Clarkson Garrett

They're shooting shrapnel o'er the trench —

My boy.

They're shooting shrapnel o'er the trench,

Which means tonight they'll surely drench

These works with shells that burst and stench

( And cloy ).

They're shooting shrapnel o'er the trench —

My lad.

It breaks with shrill and tinny sound,

And quite promiscuously around

It showers metal on the ground

( It's bad ).

They're shooting shrapnel o'er the trench —

Recruit.

So do not stand and stupid stare

Till some comes down and parts your hair,

But hunt your dugout and beware

( To boot ).

They're shooting shrapnel o'er the trench —

Young man.

Which means tonight the gas shells’ thud

Will muffled fall like chunks of mud;

And th’ blinding, crashing Prince of Blood —

The G. I. Can.

They're shooting shrapnel o'er the trench —

My child.

And ere the dawn is turning gray —

You mark the very words I say —

There's going to be hell to pay

( High piled ).