A great song from the Great War of 1914-18

BOMBED LAST NIGHT

Bombed last night, Bombed the night before
Gonna get bombed tonight if we never get bombed any more.
When we're bombed, we're scared as we can be.
Oh God damn the bombin' planes from Germany.

They're over us, they're over us,
One shell-hole for the four of us
Glory be to God there are no more of us
'Cause one of us could fill it all alone.

Gassed last night—gassed the night before,
Gonna get gassed again if we never git gassed no more,
When we're gassed, we're as sick as we can be,
'Cause phosgene and mustard gas is too much for me.

A POOR AVIATOR LAY DYING

A poor aviator lay dying.
At the end of a bright summer's day.
His comrades had gathered about him.
To carry his fragments away.

The airplane was piled on his wishbone,
His Hotchkiss was wrapped round his head;
He wore a spark-plug on each elbow,
'Twas plain he would shortly be dead.

He spit out a valve and a gasket,
And stirred in the sump where he lay,
And then to his wondering comrades,
These brave parting words he did say:

And the butterfly valve off my neck,
Extract from my liver the crankshaft,
There are lots of good parts in this wreck.

And the cylinders out of my brain,
Take the piston rods out of my kidneys,
And assemble the engine again."