I don't want to join the Army

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Melody - On Sunday I walk out with a soldier
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from WWI, on right, a more polite version

I don't want to join the army,
I don't want to go to war,
I'd rather hang around Piccadilly underground,
Livin' off the earnings of a high born lady
I don't want a bayonet up me arse 'ole,
I don't want me bullocks shot away,
I'd rather stay in England, in merry, merry England,
And fornicate me fuckin' life away.

2. On Monday I touched her on the ankle,
Tuesday I touched her on her knee,
On Wednesday I confess, I lifted up her dress,
On Thursday I saw it, gor blimey,
On Friday I put me 'and upon it,
On Saturday I took her out to tea,
On Sunday after supper, I whopped me f**r up her,
An' now I'm payin' forty bob a week!

I don't want to join the army,
I don't want to go to war.
I'd rather hang around Piccadilly underground,
Livin' off the earnings of a high-born lady.
I don't want a bayonet in my belly,
I don't want my bollocks shot away.
I'd rather stay in England, in merry merry England,
And fornicate this bleeding life away.

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