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Banjo Paterson - No Class
Work rating: Low

Oh! When we took Pretoria we thought the war was done;
We thought to do some marching past and finish up the fun;
But wandering over Africa and trampin’ down the grass
In search of Christian De Wet – well that’s no class.

We thought this here De Wet was something better than the rest.
The way he took those yeomanry was equal to the best
We haven’t got no grudge for that, we let the matter pass,
But burnin’ all our letters up – well, that’s no class.

The grub we get it ain’t the sort to make us extra fat,
We don’t expect no pigeon pie or anything like that;
But trek ox grown  too old to work and starving on the grass
And ne’er a fire to cook it with – well, that’s no class.

So where we go and what we do is hidden from our sight,
We have to starve, we have to tramp, we have to rouse and fight-
A kind of endless pilgrimage that we must make, alas!
“With Hunter, all round Africa!  Per boot!  No class!"
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