You've seen this face no doubt before,
I'm captain of the masher corps,
For mashing slaveys we take the belt,
Stick us near the fire we'd melt.
The girls are after me where 'er I am,
Like a swarm of flies round a pot of jam,
I stop to speak when feeling dry,
I borrow a bob, then do a guy.

Chorus: We're an ornament to any little lady,
We look lovely on a Christmas tree,
In the park or in the lane we're a penny when we're plain,
But when coloured we cost two-D.

See us when we're on parade,
We put civilians in the shade;
There's nothing like us in the park,
Especially when it's getting dark.
On our tricky walk the ladies dote,
And go 'nap' on our danger signal coat;
At our wounds and scars, oh, don't they stare,
If we've got none... we put them there.


Whatever would the ladies do,
How could they spend their money, too;
We're a friend in need, for us they sigh,
And kiss our shadow as we pass by.
As for going to war that's tommy-rot,
You can buy the regiment a penny a lot;
But when we hear the battle cry,
We'd willingly lay down... and sleep.

Written, composed and performed by Tom Woottwell (1865-1941)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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