These are the words as sung at my infant's school in the East End of London a couple of years post WW2:

My old man's a dustman
He wears a dustman's hat
He killed five thousand Germans
And what do you think of that

One laid here, one laid there
One laid round the corner
One poor soul had a bullet up his hole
Crying out for water

Water, water,
Water came at last
I don't want your water
You can stick it up your arse