Lyrics Serves You Right (You Shouldn't Have Joined) - George Formby

Serves You Right (You Shouldn't Have Joined)

Ever since the days of old the Navy’s ruled the waves
For years they’ve told the world that Britain’s never shall be slaves
The Navy still remembers and you’ll often hear
Them say What Nelson told Napoleon upon Trafalgar day
It serves you right
You shouldn’t have joined, it jolly well serves you right
It serves you right, you shouldn’t have joined
You might have been sitting tight You might have been in Civvy Street
Instead of in the fight But it serves you right
You shouldn’t have joined, it jolly well serves you right
And it’s no use kicking up a row because your nobody’s sweetheart now
You can weep and sigh and pipe your eye but still youre in the fight
It serves you right
You shouldn’t have joined, it jolly well serves you right
I wouldn’t mind the Navy if the blinking ship were still
It’s all this bobbing up and down that makes me feel so ill
The seas alright for sharks and whales and things the like of
That But I’d rather stick my Marlin’s Pike in llkley Moor ba’tat
But It serves me right, I shouldn’t have joined
It jolly well serves me right It serves me right
I shouldn’t have joined, I might have been sitting tight
When I was cleaning windows I would keep em nice and bright But
Now I’m polishing portholes, rubbing them up with all me might
And it’s no use kicking up a row because I’m nobody’s sweetheart now
One day up in the crows nest I was feeling bright and gay '
Til the captain shouted Dont come down, we’ve taken the ship away'
I used to be a chimney sweep in dear old Wigan town
I used to do the lady’s down the street for half a
Crown But now I don’t get nothing for the little jobs I do
I wish I was in Wigan sweeping Mrs
Jones’s flue
But it serves me right, I shouldn’t have joined
It jolly well serves me right It serves me right
I shouldn’t have joined, I might have been sitting tight
I thought in every port I’d get a cuddle every night
But all I’ve done is cuddle a gun and work up an appetite
And it’s no use kicking up a row because I’m nobody’s sweetheart now
There’s a draught around my fore and aft my jumper’s much too tight
I’ve got barnacles on my binnacle and it ruddy well serves me right