The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #56843   Message #4091027
Posted By: GUEST,#
01-Feb-21 - 07:43 PM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: The Second Front Song (Ewan MacColl)
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Second Front Song (Ewan MacColl)
Hold the press. There seem to be more stanzas at the following link (and it's credited to MacColl (Miller)).

https://www.antiwarsongs.org/canzone.php?id=47846&lang=en


THE SECOND FRONT SONG
(Ewan MacColl)

Now, my boys, if you will listen, I'll sing you a little song.
So sit you down a while here; I'll not detain you long.
I was serving in the infantry, was told I would receive
With all the other blokes a weekend's embarkation leave. So I packed my bag at the double and I was ready soon.
I took my place in an army truck with the rest of my platoon.
Nobody made much noise that trip; the driver he did blind.
We were all too busy thinking of the ones we'd leave behind. When we reached the railway station, the queue was three miles long.
They'd have filled the Wembley Stadium and still left quite a throng.
'It's every man for himself, lads' cried Corporal McShane,
So we rushed that crowd with a roar and tore our way onto the train. We were all packed in the corridor; it was eighty in the shade.
The seats had all been taken by the chewing gum brigade.
They smoked their Camel cigarettes and petted with their Janes,
And looked at us as though we were something crept out of the drains. For eleven long hours we stood there and watched the fields slip by.
We were packed so close we couldn't even smoke, and that's no lie.
And all the time the Yanks talked big and boasted they were tops,
And wrestled with their Judies now and then between the stops. At last the train reached Manchester; the station was Exchange.
It was too late to get a car or bus to Whalley Range
I tried to flag a taxi but I didn't stand a chance.
They'd all been commandeered to take the Yanks home from a dance. I humped my pack upon my back and made to cross the street,
And just escaped a sudden death from a madly driven Jeep,
But the thought of Nelly waiting made happiness arise,
And my heart was beating pleasantly at the thought of her surprise.

I let myself in quietly and tiptoed up the stairs.
The thought of being home again had banished all my cares.
In the bedroom then I murmured: 'Gal, your soldier boy has come',
When a voice replied in sharp surprise: 'Say, Nell, who is this bum?' For a moment I stood speechless there and rooted to the ground,
And then I switched the lights on and what do you think I found?
My little Nell was lying there exposing all her charms
Like the famous whore of Babylon in a Yankee M.P.'s arms. This geezer looked me over and then sat bolt upright.
He was wearing my pyjamas, the ones with the purple stripe.
He made a sudden movement, then tried to grab his gun,
And I landed him a good straight left and stopped his bleeding fun. And then I waded in, my boys, and pasted him like hell.
That bastard lost so many teeth he couldn't even yell.
I kicked him down the stairs, my lads, and out into the street.
That geezer must have thought it was the middle of next week. My story's nearly over; there's little more to tell.
I wasn't wearing any overtures from little Nell.
For every time i think of her, with grief my body fills,
But she'll do all right as long as there's a Yank to pay the bills.