As me and my companions were scrambling up a hill,
The path was lost in rolling stones, but we went
forward still;
For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn up
everywhere,
And it's our delight on a mountain height, with
a leg or two to spare!
Good luck to every sergeant, then, that lets us
pick our road;
Bad luck to all the driver-men that cannot pack
a load:
For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn
up everywhere,
And it's our delight on a mountain height with
a leg or two to spare!