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Banjo Paterson - I Joined a ContingentBanjo Paterson - I Joined a Contingent
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I joined a contingent and went to the war In search of promotion and pay, For I fancied the pastime of hunting the Boer, Would suit me at five bob a day. But, riding along, I heard something go wheeeuw A bullet passed close to my head So I sprang to the ground like a hero so true, And I lay there and shammed to be dead. (spoken) Yes, you can talk about your V.C. and all that. Wait till you’ve heard a bullet go like this, wheeeuw, close past your head. The officer shouted out: “Forwards, Forwards!!”, so I lay there and said to myself, “Well, he doesn’t want me I’m not a forward, I’m a full-back.” But they called me a white-livered cur, A Mounted Australia Cur, But, after all’s said I’m alive and they’re dead, And that’s what I greatly prefer! I’m alive and I’m gay With my five bob a day As a Mounted Australian  Cur. My Grandmother taught me a little refrain A sort of a nursery rhyme “If you fight till you’re slain, you cannot fight again If you run you can run everytime.” And this piece of wisdom I gathered from her, Which, somehow, I never forgot: “It will hurt you, no doubt, to be branded a cur, Bit it hurts you much more to be shot.” (spoken) Yes, a lot of our poor fellows got shot. And what’s the good of five bob a day to a dead man? The officer says to me, “you’re a white livered cur,” he says, “You’re a silly ass,” I says, “You’ll get somebody hurt, lettin’ the Boer shoot at us like this. A man’s a fool to follow you, I says. “You’ll be shot tomorrow morning by a firing squad” he says. “No, I won’t” I says, “I’ll go home tonight. I’m tired of the war, I says. But they call me a white-livered cur, A Mounted Australian Cur, But, after all’s said, I’m alive and they’re dead., and that’s what I greatly prefer! I’m alive, so I’m gay On my five bob a day As a Mounted Australian Cur.
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