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Banjo 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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