“SOCK IT TO‘ EM”...

“SOCK IT TO‘ EM”

Yes, Wilhelm, sure you'll get it,

The storm is o'er your head;

It is bursting in the trenches

And you're just as good as dead.

You put your foot on Belgium

And defied your fate and doom,

And now the whole world hates you

And the cry is “Sock it to‘ em!”

True, your Taubchens still are sailing,

But your battleships are not;

They are coop'd up in a corner

Save the submerg'd ones that fought.

You are saving time and fuel,

But you're sad and filled with gloom,

For the very winds are whispering

“Blow hard and sock it to‘ em.”

You have sought more spacious realm

In the free and genial sun:

Has your sceptre widened any

With the salvo of each gun?

Your “World-Power” seems to narrow,

And your hope lies in a tomb,

While dark Fate weaves your chaplet

And whispers “Sock it to‘ em!”