THE GALLANT NINETY-THIRD
 
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Oh! I loved a bonny lass, but she didn't care for me,
She liked a gallant soger in the Royal Artillery;
I tried to cut him out, yes, I did upon my word,
So I went and I enlisted in the gallant Ninety-Third.

Chorus: Oh, I like to be a soger, tho' the dress is so absurd,
I like to be a soger in the gallant Ninety Third;
I like to be a warrior, and think upon my word,
That a bolder soger you'll not find than the gallant Ninety-Third.

With a sogers life I thought nought but pleasure was in store,
But I wash the plates and dishes, and I often scrub the floor;
It's not the jolly life tho' of which I've often heard,
But I'm bound to be a soger in the gallant Ninety-Third.

Chorus:

I thought the dress was certain my bonny lass to please,
But since. I've join'd I find I've got rhematics in my knees;
If I could buy myself off, I'd do it like a bird,
But I'm bound to stop for six years in the gallant Ninety-Third.

Chorus:

Since I have join'd, my bonny lass, I have never chanced to meet,
When I do the other chap will have to tak' a distant seat;
I ken that when she sees me, her heart it will be stirred,
It's the dress, ye ken, that does it in the gallant Ninety-Third.

SPOKEN - Aye, there's nae mistak' aboot it, the lassies like the hielanders. And if he's anything like a decent lookin' kin' o' man at a' he's share tae look weel in kilts; ye mun hae stoot legs tho', spindles dinna look weel in hose. I've nae doot it was the first dress invented, when man first felt the want o' claes he twisted round his waist the tartan philabeg.
It's a very comfortable dress tho' for a' that, anither thing, it keeps ye frae that vulgar habit o' pittin' yer hanns in yer troosers pockets. And what sae stirrin' tae the heart o' a hielander as the bagpipes, the glorious, the sweet bagpipes, the first music ever invented.
I believe it was Jubal that squeezed in his oxter the blether o' a sheep, but blether or no blether, dinna think I'm bletherin' when I remind ye that the sound o' the bagpipes has made mony a braw hielandman march tae the battle-field and face the foreign foe. Aye! and made him trimmel frae head tae fit tae. And if ever they're wanted the gallant 93rd will be tae the fore.
 
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Written and composed by Arthur Lloyd - 1882
Performed by Arthur Lloyd (1840 - 1904)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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