Please don't laugh at my whiskers, and the truth I'll tell to you.
I met with a sad misfortune it's turned a lot of 'em blue.
The other night while going home to have my … over.
I had such a fright, turned another lot white, so now they're coloured all over.
All through my rainbow whiskers from a good job I was outed.
'Twas all the girls at the factory went for my whiskers and shouted—

Chorus: Three cheers for the red, white and blue!
They got me the sack, it is so true.
When the old girl said, 'How did you lose your job, Clarence?' I said:
Three cheers for the red, white and blue!

One day with me only fourpence, I went out for a bit, she said.
I do believe it was chopped off before it was a bag of lead.
I shouted in her old iron pot, left it there a-steaming.
Without a bit of doubt, it's just been out, and the kids all started screaming.
It went for the tile of our old tomcat. don't think I'm telling a fable.
When I rushed back in the room like mad, all the kids cried under the table—

Chorus: Three cheers for the red, white and blue!
In my temper I picked up the Irish stew.
All the carrots, turnips, parsley, and four dumplings,
They were hanging on me red, white and blue.

Now me old grandfather's whiskers they went as the same as mine.
Before he died, we chopped 'em off and we hung 'em on an old clothesline.
Next day we tried to pawn 'em, nohow could raise a farthing.
We had 'em in the family fifty years for sweeping up our old back garding.
Although grandfather lied at rest at a quiet spot down in Tooting,
I can't help thinking when I pass that way that his whiskers must be shooting.

Chorus: Three cheers for the red, white and blue!
There are yards and yards of whiskers coming through,
And the man up in the moon soon will be singing:
Three cheers for the red, white and blue.

One day I joined the army, I mean the militia corps
And while the fight was raging, we were ordered down to war.
We used up all our cannonballs, then cried, 'Oh, Colonel Bunion!
A man must stop for a little cold chop and a load of Spanish onions.'
They were too strong for the enemy, it made them all turn back-o.
Then one of them men cried, 'Lord love a duck! We've lost our Union Jack-o!'

Chorus: So up went me red, white and blue.
They stuck me on a pole, it is so true,
And the militia boys all did salute my whiskers as they cried:
Three cheers for the red, white and blue!
Performed by Harry Champion (1865-1942)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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