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SPOILS OF WAR
I have a big French rifle, its stock is riddled
clean, And shrapnel-smashed its barrel, likewise its
magazine. I've lugged it from Bethune to Loos and back
from Loos again, I've found it on the battlefield amidst the
soldiers slain. A little battle souvenir for one across the foam That's if the French authorities will let me
take it home.
I've got a long, long sabre as sharp as any
lance,
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