| Here’s to the oldiers that march tae the wars
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| With lovely tin hats and long woollen drawers
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| The Colonel says right lads, over the top
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| Then stands back tae wtach while the poor buggers drop
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| Buy us a drink and we’ll sing you a song
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| Of the chances you missed and the love that went wrong
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| If you can’t buy a whiskey, stand us a pint
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| We’ll knock it straight down and we’ll sing half the night
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| There’s girls in the parlour, there’s girls in the bars
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| They paint on the smile so you don’t see the scars
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| They get lots of offers and not much respect
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| For raisin' three kids on a government cheque
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| Drink it down, boys, down
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| As long as there’s light in the day
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| For you’ll get no more sup
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| When your number is up
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| And they lay to rot in the clay
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| In comes the landlord so fat and contect
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| Comes round in his Volvo to pick up the rent
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| Then off with his wad tae recline by the pool
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| He leave tea rot in this dirty old hold
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| Repeat Chorus
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| It’s the taste of the whiskey tae tell you the truth
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| Has shortened me days and wasted me youth
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| Be kind tae the health, sir do it no harm
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| Put a pint’o the black on end of me arm
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| Repeat Chorus Twice |