| Early one November me Uncle Tommy joined the army
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| Kitted him out for danger & ferried him o’er the sea
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| He threw me o’er his shoulder, sang to me a dirty ditty
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| Telling me when I were older you’ll be just like me
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| A half a bottle o' whisky, tattoo of a pretty lady
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| Half a dozen Havana’s & his Aunties rosary
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| A-thunderin' oe’r the border, guns a-blazin', hells a-raisin'
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| Here I am ya bastards, ye’ll no be havin' me!
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| Tommy was a rifle, Tommy was a razor
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| Tommy was a ramblin' man
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| A silver blade in the dyin' shade
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| Oor Tommy was a fightin' man!
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| The following December he sent a card to Auntie Annie
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| Tellin' her he were frozen half to death upon a hill
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| Sick o' the sound o' trash cans, kickin' in doors on dear old ladies
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| Sick o' the screamin' babies, he had lost the bottle tae kill
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| He earn’t his scars in German bars
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| And breakin' the hearts o' the maids o' Norway
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| Trained his guns upon the Huns
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| And boxed the sons o' proud old Galway
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| Tommy was a rifle, Tommy was a razor
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| Tommy was a Ramblin' man
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| Quick with a pound when yer luck was down
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| Oor Tommy was a Jerry can
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| Early one November me Uncle Tommy left the army
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| Stripped him o' his regalia & ferried him o’er the main
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| He took me by the shoulder, sang to me a dirty ditty
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| bastard’s only love ye when ye’re shootin' at yer ain! |