| To feed a war you have to pillage
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| But let your soldiers rest a bit
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| For what they need here’s Mother Courage
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| With woollen coats and boots that fit
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| Their heads ablaze with lice and liquor
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| The boys are marching to the beat
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| I guarantee they’ll step it quicker
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| With boots upon their blistered feet
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| Now spring has come and winter’s dead
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| The snow has gone so draw a breath
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| Let Christian souls crawl out of their beds
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| Pull on their socks and conquer death
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| Unless his belly’s full of porridge
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| A soldier’s sure to turn and run
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| By him some grub from Mother Courage
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| So he’ll know where to point his gun
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| They fight for God and legal tender
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| I’ll see them clothed and feed them well
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| And bless the boys in all their splendour
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| As they march down the road to hell
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| Now spring has come and winter’s dead
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| The snow has gone so draw a breath
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| Let Christian souls crawl out of their beds
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| Pull on their socks and conquer death |