THE VETERAN
(Musical Monologue)
 
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It's twenty years ago since I
Drew sword for home and Queen;
But 'tis not of myself I'd tell,
Of service that I've seen.
The pride of doing valant deeds,
The hopes, perhaps, of fame,
Are centred now in one who bears,
A worn-out warrior's name,

Refrain: My son! My Boy!
The old blood in his veins!
Chip of the block of a fighting stock,
My Son! My Boy!

At school he used to play the wag,
I don't say that was right,
But if he ran away from school
He never feared a fight!
His tiny fists would tingle, just
To set things fair and square,
The bully dared not bully, if
The little 'un was there!

Refrain: My son! My Boy!
The old blood in his veins!
Chip of the block of a fighting stock,
My Son! My Boy!

And so he grew to be a man,
To fight and win, or die.
And now he's won a prize beyond
The power of gold to buy.
He fought and bled and fearless led,
Through storm of shot and shell,
And saved! but hear what others said,
The tale his comrades tell,

Refrain: Of him! My Son!
The old blood in his veins!
Chip of the block of a fighting stock,
V.C.! My Boy!

 
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Written and composed by Albert Chevalier & Alfred H. West - 1900
Performed by Albert Chevalier (1861-1923)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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