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THE GUNS 35
The big nine point two speaks like thunder
And shatters the houses in Loos, Sharp chatters the little machine-gun,
Oh ! when will its chattering stop ?— At dawn, when we swarm up the ladders;
At dawn we go over the top !
Chorus. Whizz bang ! pip squeak ! OO-plonk ! sst!
Up the ladders! Over! And carry on
with it! The guns all chant their chorus, the shells
go whizzing o'er us :— Forward, hearties! Forward to do our
little bit! |
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