“Perhaps
they know ‘Assembly’, an’ they’re pretty sure of ‘Drill’,
But
as for any others they are thick,” says Bugler Bill
“A
man could blow his head off an’ they’d never wink an’ eye
But
when I blow the mess-call ev’ry private starts to fly.”
“They
never pay attention much to ‘Taps’ or ‘Reveille’,
‘To
Church’ won’t raise an eyebrow, fur as ever I kin see;
The
sergeant has to call ‘em when it’s ‘quarters’ or ‘police’
But
when I blow the mess call they come like they slid in grease,”
“Whether
they’re lackin’ music or they hain’t got any ear,
Or
don’t care what I’m blowin’ I dunno, but say, it’s queer,
When
I toot that bloomin’ mess-call, whether morn or noon or night
Ev’ry
private’s got some music in his doggone’d appetite!”
Nov. 26, 1917
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