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Us and them |
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And after all, we're only ordinary men |
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Me and you |
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God only knows, it's not what we would choose to do |
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Forward he cried from the rear |
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And the front rank died |
|
The General sat, and the lines on the map |
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Moved from side to side |
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Black and blue |
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And who knows which is which and who is who |
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Up and down |
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And in the end, it's only round and round and round |
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Haven't you heard it's a battle of words |
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The poster bearer cried |
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Listen son, said the man with the gun |
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There's room for you inside |
|
They're maybe gonna kill ya. So like, if you give 'em a quick, short, sharp, shock, they don't do it again. Dig it? I mean he get off light, come to think. Of rationalising it, once. It's only a difference, but why go and ruin it? I mean good manners don't cost nothing, do they, eh? |
| [1] |
|
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Down and out |
|
It can't be helped, but there's a lot of it about |
|
With, without |
|
And who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about |
| [2] |
|
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Out of the way, it's a busy day |
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I've got things on my mind |
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For want of the price of tea and a slice |
|
The old man died |
