Cheer for the Sergeant’s weddin’—
Give ’em one cheer more!
Grey gun-’orses in the lando,
An’ a rogue is married to a whore

What’s the use o’ tellin’
     ’Arf the lot she’s been?
’E’s a bloomin’ robber,
     An’ ’e keeps canteen.
’Ow did ’e get ’is buggy?
     Gawd, you needn’t ask!
’Made ’is forty gallon
     Out of every cask!

Watch ’im, with ’is ’air cut,
     Count us filin’ by—
Won’t the Colonel praise ’is
     Pop—u—lar—i—ty!
We ’ave scores to settle—
     Scores for more than beer;
She’s the girl to pay ’em—
     That is why we’re ’ere!

See the chaplain thinkin’?
     See the women smile?
Twig the married winkin’
     As they take the aisle?
Keep your side-arms quiet,
     Dressin’ by the Band.
Ho! You ’oly beggars,
     Cough be’ind your ’and!

Now it’s done an’ over,
     ’Ear the organ squeak,
“’Voice that breathed o’er Eden”—
     Ain’t she got the cheek!
White an’ laylock ribbons,
     Think yourself so fine!
I’d pray Gawd to take yer
     ’Fore I made yer mine!

Escort to the kerridge,
     Wish ’im luck, the brute!
Chuck the slippers after—
     (Pity ’tain’t a boot!)
Bowin’ like a lady,
     Blushin’ like a lad—
’Oo would say to see ’em
     Both is rotten bad?

Cheer for the Sergeant’s weddin’—
     Give ’em one cheer more!
Grey gun-’orses in the lando,
     An’ a rogue is married to a whore