The House is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin
And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks
Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din;
Were sure the Kaiser loves our dear old Tanks!
Id like to see a Tank come down the stalls,
Lurching to rag-time tunes, or Home, sweet Home,
And thered be no more jokes in Music-halls
To mock the riddled corpses round Bapaume.
