Danny Deever

“What are the bugles blowin’ for?” said Files-on-Parade.

“To turn you out, to turn you out”, the Colour-Sergeant said.

“What makes you look so white, so white?” said Files-on-Parade.

“I'm dreadin’ what I've got to watch”, the Colour-Sergeant said.

For they're hangin’ Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,

The regiment's in‘ ollow square — they're hangin’ him to-day;

They've taken of his buttons off an’ cut his stripes away,

An’ they're hangin’ Danny Deever in the mornin’.

“What makes the rear-rank breathe so‘ ard?” said Files-on-Parade.

“It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold”, the Colour-Sergeant said.

“What makes that front-rank man fall down?” said Files-on-Parade.

“A touch o’ sun, a touch o’ sun”, the Colour-Sergeant said.

They are hangin’ Danny Deever, they are marchin’ of‘ im round,

They‘ ave‘ alted Danny Deever by‘ is coffin on the ground;

An’‘ e'll swing in‘ arf a minute for a sneakin’ shootin’ hound —

O they're hangin’ Danny Deever in the mornin’!

“‘ Is cot was right -‘ and cot to mine”, said Files-on-Parade.

“‘ E's sleepin’ out an’ far to-night”, the Colour-Sergeant said.

“I've drunk‘ is beer a score o’ times”, said Files-on-Parade.

“‘ E's drinkin’ bitter beer alone”, the Colour-Sergeant said.

They are hangin’ Danny Deever, you must mark‘ im to‘ is place,

For‘ e shot a comrade sleepin’ — you must look‘ im in the face;

Nine‘ undred of‘ is county an’ the regiment's disgrace,

While they're hangin’ Danny Deever in the mornin’.

“What's that so black agin’ the sun?” said Files-on-Parade.

“It's Danny fightin’‘ ard for life”, the Colour-Sergeant said.

“What's that that whimpers over'ead?” said Files-on-Parade.

“It's Danny's soul that's passin’ now”, the Colour-Sergeant said.

For they're done with Danny Deever, you can‘ ear the quickstep play,

The regiment's in column, an’ they're marchin’ us away;

Ho! the young recruits are shakin’, an’ they'll want their beer to-day,

After hangin’ Danny Deever in the mornin’.