We haven’t a camelty tune of our own
To help us trollop along,
But every neck is a hair trombone
(_Rtt-ta-ta-ta!_ is a hair trombone!)
And this our marching-song:
_Can’t! Don’t! Sha’n’t! Won’t!_
Pass it along the line!
Somebody’s pack has slid from his back,
Wish it were only mine!
Somebody’s load has tipped off in the road--
Cheer for a halt and a row!
_Urrr! Yarrh! Grr! Arrh!_
Somebody’s catching it now!