| «What are the bugles blowin’ for?» - said Files-on-Parade. |
| «To turn you out, to turn you out,» - the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| «What makes you look so white, so white?» - said Files-on-Parade. |
| «I’m dreadin’ what I’ve got to watch,» - the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| For they’re hangin’ Danny Deever, you can |
| hear the Dead March play, |
| The Regiment’s in ’ollow square - they’re hangin’ him to-day; |
| They’ve taken of his buttons off an’ cut his stripes away, |
| ’ they’re hangin’ Danny Deever in the mornin’. |
| |
| «What makes the rear-rank breathe so ’ard?» - said Files-on-Parade. |
| «It’s bitter cold, it’s bitter cold,» - the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| «What makes that front-rank man fall down?» - said Files-on-Parade. |
| «А touch o’ sun, a touch o’ sun,» - the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| ’ Danny Deever, they are marchin’ of ’im round, |
| They’ave ’alted Danny Deever by ’is coffin on the ground; |
| An’ ’e’ll swing in ’arf a minute for a sneakin’ shootin’ hound - |
| О they’re hangin’ Danny Deever in the mornin’! |
| |
| «'Is cot was right-’and cot to mine,» - said Files-on-Parade. |
| «'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night,» - the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| «I've drunk 'is beer a score o’ times,» - said Files-on-Parade. |
| «'E's drinkin’ bitter beer alone,» - the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| They are hangin’ Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place, |
| ’im in the face; |
| ’s disgrace, |
| While they're hangin’ Danny Deever in the mornin’. |
| |
| «What’s that so black agin the sun?» - said Files-on-Parade. |
| «It's Danny fightin’ ’ard for life,» - the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| «What’s that that whimpers over’ead?» - said Files-on-Parade |
| «It’s Danny’s soul that's passin’ now,» - the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| For they’re done with Danny Deever, you can |
| ’ear the quickstep play, |
| ’s in column, an’ they’re marchin’ us away; |
| Ho! the young recruits are shakin’, an’ they’ll |
|
| ’ Danny Deever in the mornin’! |