“What makes you look so white, so white?”
said Files-on-Parade.
“I’m dreadin’ what I’ve got
to watch”, the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they’re hangin’
Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,
The regiment’s in ‘ollow
square—they’re hangin’ him today;
They’ve taken of his
buttons off an’ cut his stripes away,
An’ they’re hangin’
Danny Deever in the mornin’.
“What makes the rear-rank breathe so ’ard?”
said Files-on-Parade.
“It’s bitter cold, it’s bitter cold”,
the Colour-Sergeant said.
“What makes that front-rank man fall down?”
said Files-on-Parade.
“A touch o’ sun, a touch o’ sun”,
the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin’ Danny
Deever, they are marchin’ of ’im round,
They ’ave ’alted
Danny Deever by ’is coffin on the ground;
An’ ’e’ll
swing in ‘arf a minute for a sneakin’ shootin’
hound—
O they’re hangin’
Danny Deever in the mornin’!
“’Is cot was right-’and cot to mine”,
said Files-on-Parade.
“‘E’s sleepin’ out an’
far tonight”, the Colour-Sergeant said.
“I’ve drunk ‘is beer a score o’
times”, said Files-on-Parade.
“‘E’s drinkin’ bitter beer
alone”, the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin’ Danny
Deever, you must mark ’im to ’is place,
For ’e shot a comrade
sleepin’—you must look ’im in
the face;
Nine ’undred of ‘is
county an’ the regiment’s disgrace,
While they’re hangin’
Danny Deever in the mornin’.
“What’s that so black agin’ the
sun?” said Files-on-Parade.
“It’s Danny fightin’ ’ard
for life”, the Colour-Sergeant said.
“What’s that that whimpers over’ead?”
said Files-on-Parade.
“It’s Danny’s soul that’s
passin’ now”, the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they’re done with
Danny Deever, you can ’ear the quickstep play,
The regiment’s in column,
an’ they’re marchin’ us away;
Ho! the young recruits are
shakin’, an’ they’ll want their beer
today,
After hangin’ Danny
Deever in the mornin’.
I went into a public-’ouse to get a pint o’
beer,
The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We
serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’
giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez
I:
O it’s Tommy this, an’
Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, go away”;
But it’s “Thank
you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to
play,
The band begins to play, my
boys, the band begins to play,
O it’s “Thank
you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to
play.
