When first I went to soldier with rifle on my shoulder There wasn't no one bolder in the corps boys, oh And when I walked abroad all the pretty girls, they'd wink at me The ladies can't resist a jolly soldier. (Chorus) Bang upon the big drum, crash upon the cymbals We'll sing as we go marching along boys, along And although on this campaign There's no whiskey or champagne Still we'll keep our spirits going with a song, boys Now, when we got the route, and for India we set out The girls they cried around us to the docks boys, oh And we gave three heary cheers for the pretty little dears In hopes that each one got another soldier Then we marched through Khalasan and we met the wild Afghan And made him at Karazia for to run boys, oh And we marched into Kabul, and we took the Bala Hisar And we made them to respect the British Soldier. And now I'll say good-bye for I'm feeling rather dry And I see a comrade waiting with a song, boys, oh So here's good luck to all and promotion soon, and better money That's the sort of ticket for a soldier!