I don't want to join the army, I don't want to go to war,
I'd rather sit around, pickin' dillies off the ground,
And livin' off the favors of a 'igh-born lady.
I don't want a bullet up me arse 'ole,
I don't want me pecker blown away,
I'd rather live in England, in jolly, sunny, England,
And fornicate me bloody life away!!
Monday I touched her on the ankle,
Tuesday I touched her on the knee,
And Wednesday after Mass, I lifted up her dress,
And Thursday I saw you know what,
Friday I put me 'and upon it,
Saturday she gave me balls a tweak [tweak, tweak]
And Sunday after supper, I ran me fucker up 'er,
And now she pays me forty quid a week!