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C J Dennis - The Game
Work rating: Low

"Ho! the sky`s as blue as blazes an` the sun is shinin` bright,
   An` the dicky birds is singin` over`ead,
An` I`m `ummin`, softly `ummin`, w`ile I`m achin` fer a fight,
   An` the chance to fill some blighter full of lead.
An` the big guns they are boomin`, an` the shells is screamin` past,
But I`m corperil - lance-corperil, an` found me game at last!"

I ixpects a note frum Ginger, fer the time wus gettin` ripe,
   An I gits one thick wiv merry `owls uv glee;
Fer they`ve gone an` made `im corperil - they`ve given `im a stripe,
   An` yeh`d think, to see `is note, it wus V.C.
Fer `e chortles like a nipper wiv a bran` noo Noah`s Ark
Since forchin she `as smiled on `im, an` life`s, no more a nark.

"Ho! the sky along the `ill-tops, it is smudged wiv cannon smoke,
   An` the shells along the front is comin` fast,
But the `eads `ave `ad the savvy fer to reckernise a bloke,
   An` permotion`s gettin` common-sense at last.
An` they picked me fer me manners, w`ich wus snouted over `ome,
But I`ve learned to be a soljer since I crossed the ragin` foam.

"They `ave picked me `cos they trust me; an` it`s got me where I live,
   An` it`s put me on me mettle, square an` all;
I wusn`t in the runnin` once when blokes `ad trust to give,
   But over `ere I answers to the call;
So some shrewd `ead `e marked me well, an` when the time wus ripe
`E took a chance on Ginger Mick, an` I `ave snared me stripe.

"I know wot I wus born fer now, an` soljerin`s me game,
   That`s no furphy; but I never guessed it once;
Fer when I `it things up at `ome they said I wus to blame,
   An` foolish beaks they sent me up fer munce.
But `ere - well, things is different to wot sich things wus then.
Fer me game is playin` soljers, an` me lurk is `andlin` men.
 
"Me game is `andlin` men, orl right, I seen it in the parst
   When I used to `ead the pushes in the Lane.
An` ev`ry bloke among `em then done everythin` I arst,
   Fer I never failed to make me feelin` plain.
Disturbers uv the peace we wus them days, but now I know
We wus aimin` to be soljers, but we never `ad a show.

"We never `ad no discipline, that`s wot we wanted bad,
   It`s discipline that gives the push its might/
But wot a tie we could `ave give the coppers if we `ad,
   Lord!  We`d `ave capchered Melbourne in an night.
When I think uv thngs that might `ave been I sometimes sit an` grin,
Fer I might be King uv Footscray if we`d `ad mor discipline.

"I`ve got a push to `andle now wot makes a soljer proud.
   Yeh ort to see the boys uv my ole squad:
The willin`est, the cheeriest, don`-care-a-damest crowd,
   An` the toughest ever seen outside o` quod.
I reckon that they gimme `em becos they wus so meek,
But they know me, an` they understan`the lingo that I speak.

"So I`m a little corperil, wiv pretties on me arm,
   But yeh`d never guess it fer to see me now,
Fer me valet `e`s been careless an` me trooso`s come to `arm,
   An `me pants want creasin` badly I`ll allow.
But to see me squad in action is a cure for sandy blight,
They are shy on table manners, but they`ve notions `ow ter fight.

"There`s a little picnic promised that `as long been overdoo,
   An` we`re waitin` fer the order to advance;
An`me bones is fairly achin` fer to see my boys bung thro`,
   Fer I know they`re dancin` mad to git the chance.
An` there`s some`ll sure be missin` when we git into the game;
But if they lorst their corperil `twould be a cryin` shame.

"We can`t afford no corperils.  But, some`ow, I dunno.
   I got a nervis feelin; in me chest,
That this `ere bit uv fancy work might be me final go
   An` I won`t be `ome to dinner wiv the rest.
It`s rot; but it keeps comin` back, that lonely kind o` mood
That fills me up wiv mushy thorts that don`t do any good.

"When it`s gettin` near to evenin` an` the guns is slowin` down
   I fergits the playful `abits uv our foes,
An` finds meself a-thinkin` thorts uv good ole Melbourne town,
   An` dreamin` dilly dreams about ole Rose.
O` course I`ll see me girl again, an` give a clean, square deal,
When I come smilin` `ome again… But that ain`t `ow I feel.

"I feel… I dunno `ow I feel. I feel that things is done.
   I seem t`ve `it the limit in some way.
Per`aps I`m orf me pannikin wiv sittin` in the sun,
   But I jist wrote to Rose the other day;
An` I wrote `er sort o` mournful `cos - I dunno `ow it seems…
Ar, I`m a gay galoot to go an` `ave these dilly dreams!

"Wot price the bran` noo corperil, wiv sof`nin` uv the `eart!
   If my pet lambs thort me a turtle dove
I`d `ave to be reel stern wiv `em, an` make another start
   To git `em where I got `em jist wiv love…
But don`t fergit, if you or your Doreen sees Rose about,
Jist tell `er that I`m well an` strong, an` sure uv winnin` out.

"Ho! the sky`s as blue as blazes, an` the sun is shinin` still,
   An` the dicky bird is perchin` on the twig,
An` the guns is pop, pop, poppin` frum the trenches on the `ill,
   An` I`m lookin` bonny in me non-com`s rig.
An` when yer writin` me again - don`t think I want ter skite -
But don`t fergit the `Corperil`; an` mind yeh spells it right."
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