Go tell the sergeant-major
To get that thing repaired
They’re losing their pawns in Asia
There’s slaughter in every square
Oh —
It’s going down slow x
Go get the fire department
To bring that hose along
And them and the schoolboy bandits
Can water each other’s lawn
Oh —
It’s going down slow x
Everybody seems to be leaving
Better say your travelling prayers
It don’t matter how you get it
It’s where do you go from there
Oh —
It’s going down slow x
God, damn the Hands of Glory
That hold the bloody firebrand high;
Close the book and end the story
Of how so many men have died.
Let the world retain in memory
That mighty tongues tell mighty lies;
And if mankind must have an enemy
Let it be his warlike pride,
Let it be his warlike pride.