—— THE MACHINE-GUN SONG. —— (As rendered by a certain battalion of Amex mitrailleurs, to the tune of "Lord Geoffrey Amherst.") ——
Reading edition
We've come from old New England for to blast the bloomin' Huns, We have sailed from afar across the sea; We will drive the Boche before us with our baby-beauty guns To the heart of the Rhine countree! And to his German majesty we will not do a thing But to spray his carcass with our hail; And when we're through with pepp'ring him, we'll make the lobster sing As we ride him into Berlin on a rail!
CHORUS.
Oh, machine guns, machine guns! They're the things to rake the Kaiser aft and fore! May they never jam on us Till we've gone and won this gosh-darn war!
Oh, machine guns are the handy things to drive the Fritzy out When he hides back of bags of sand; And machine guns are the dandy things to put the Hun to rout If he tries to regain his land. So just keep the clips a-comin', and we'll give her all the juice As we speed along our glorious way: And Von Hindenburg and Ludendorff will beat it like the deuce When the little old rat-rattlers start to play!
CHORUS.
Oh, machine guns, machine guns! They're the things to rake the Kaiser aft and fore! May they never jam on us Till we've gone and won this gosh-darn war!