In response to Curious's request of December 7, I remember the lyrics as:

If I were the marrying kind, which, thank the Lord, I'm not, Sir,
The only man whom I would wed would be a Number One, Sir;
He'd order "Fire!" and I'd order "Fire!" and we'd order "Fire!" together.
We'd be all right in the middle of the night ordering "Fire!" together.

Number Two pulls the cord, Number Three lays on, Number Four plants pole, etc.

Perhaps the song Chicken Charlie is trying to remember is "I don't want to join the Army."

I don't want to join the Army,
I don't want to go to war;
I'd rather hang around Pickadilly Underground
Living off the earnings of a high-born lady.
I don't want a bayonet up me arsehole,
I don't want me bollocks shot away.
I'd rather be in England --
Merry, merry England --
Rogering me bloody life away, Gor blimey.

Monday, I touched her on the ankle,
Tuesday, I touched her on the knee,
Wednesday night, success! I lifted up her dress,
Thursday night, she asked me home to tea.
Friday night, I put my hand upon it.
Saturday night, she gave me balls a tweak.
On Sunday after supper,
I shoved the Old Boy up 'er,
And now she earns me seven and six a week, Gor Blimey....