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Ah there, Piet! whose time 'as come to die,
'Is carcase past rebellion, but 'is eyes inquirin' why.
Though dressed in stolen uniform with badge o' rank complete,
I've known a lot o' fellers go a dam' sight worse than Piet.
An' when there wasn't aught to do
I've fought with 'im the 'ole day through
Long afternoons o' lyin' still,
An' 'earin' as you lay
The bullets swish from 'ill to 'ill
Like scythes among the 'ay.
Ah there, Piet!-be'ind 'is stony kop,
With 'is Boer bread an' biltong, an' 'is flask of
'Is Mauser for amusement an' 'is pony for retreat, I've known a lot o' fellers shoot a dam' sight worse than Piet.
He's shoved 'is rifle 'neath my nose
An' borrowed all my Sunday clo'es
An' sent me 'ome in pink;
An' I 'ave crept (Lord, 'ow I've crept!)
On 'ands an' knees I've gone,
And spoored and floored and caught and kept
Ah there, Piet!-you've sold me many a pup, When week on week alternate it was you an' me "'ands up!'
But though I never made you walk man-naked in the 'eat,
I've known a lot of fellows stalk a dam' sight worse than Piet.
From Plewman's to Marabastad,
Me an' my trusty friend 'ave 'ad,
I ain't more proud of 'avin' won,
Ah there, Piet!-picked up be'ind the drive!
The wonder wasn't 'ow 'e fought, but 'ow 'e kep'
With nothin' in 'is belly, on 'is back, or to 'is feetI've known a lot o' men behave a dam' sight worse than Piet.
No more I'll 'ear 'is rifle crack
For countin' what 'e eats an' draws,
'E's gettin' 'alf the Earth, because
Ah there, Piet! with your brand-new English plough,
Your gratis tents an' cattle, an' your most ungrateful frow.
You've made the British taxpayer rebuild your
I've known some pet battalions charge a dam' sight less than Piet.
HERE is a world outside the one you know,
As we can testify, for we are there.
You may 'ave read a bullet laid us low,
They can't be certain-faces alter so
ain't it odd?-the one we best can spare.
We might 'ave seen our chance to cut the showName, number, record, an' begin elsewhereLeavin' some not too late-lamented foe
One funeral-private-British-for 'is share.
We may 'ave took it yonder in the Low
Among the Kaffirs, till their columns go,
We might 'ave been your lovers long ago,
Marry again, and we will not say no,
Nor come to bastardise the kids you bear; Wait on in 'ope-you've all your life below Before you'll ever 'ear us on the stair.
There is no need to give our reasons, though
But other people might not judge 'em so,
And now it doesn't matter what they were.
What man can size or weigh another's woe? There are some things too bitter 'ard to bear. Suffice it we 'ave finished-Domino!
As we can testify, for we are there,
In the side-world where 'wilful-missings' go.