There's a little red-faced man, Which is Bobs, Rides the tallest 'orse 'e can-Our Bobs, If it bucks or kicks or rears, 'E can sit for twenty years With a smile round both 'is ears-Can't yer, Bobs?
Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur-
Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!
'E's or pukka Kandaharder-
Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!
'E's the Dook of Aggy Chel;
'E's the man that done us well, An' we'll follow 'im to 'ell-Won't we Bobs?
If a limber's slipped a trace, 'Ook on Bobs.
If a marker's lost 'is place, Dress by Bobs.
For 'e's eyes all up 'is coat, An' a bugle in 'is throat, An' you will not play the goat Under Bobs.
'E's a little down on drink, Chaplain Bobs;
But it keeps us outer Clink-
Don't it Bobs?
So we will not complain Tho' 'e's water on the brain, If 'e leads us straight again-Blue-light Bobs.
If you stood 'im on 'is head Father Bobs, You could spill a quart o' lead Outer Bobs.
'E's been at it thirty years, An' amassin souveneers In the way o' slugs an' spears-Ain't yer, Bobs?
What 'e does not Know o' war, Gen'ral Bobs, You can arst the shop next door-Can't they, Bobs?
Oh, 'e's little, but he's wise;
'E's a terror for 'is size, An'-'e-does-not-advertise-Do yer, Bobs?
Now they've made a bloomin' Lord Outer Bobs, Which was but 'is fair reward-Weren't it Bobs?
So 'e'll wear a coronet Where 'is 'elmet used to set;But we know you won't forget-
Will yer, Bobs?
Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur-
Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!
Pocket-Wellin'ton an' arder -
Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!
This ain't no bloomin' ode, But you've 'elped the soldier's load, An' for benefits bestowed, Bless yer, Bobs!
