Читать книгу Охота за древом. Стихи и переводы - Александр Милитарев - Страница 21

I went into a public—’ouse to get a pint o’ beer,

The publican ’e up an’ sez, «We serve no red—coats here.»

The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,

I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:

O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ «Tommy, go away»;

But it’s «Thank you, Mister Atkins», when the band begins to play,

The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,

O it’s «Thank you, Mister Atkins», when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,

They gave a drunk civilian room, but ’adn’t none for me;

They sent me to the gallery or round the music—’alls,

But when it comes to fightin’, Lord! they’ll shove me in the stalls!

For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ «Tommy, wait outside»;

But it’s «Special train for Atkins» when the trooper’s on the tide,

The troopship’s on the tide, my boys, the troopship’s on the tide,

O it’s «Special train for Atkins» when the trooper’s on the tide.

Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep

Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;

An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit

Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.

Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ «Tommy, ’ow’s yer soul?»

But it’s «Thin red line of ’eroes» when the drums begin to roll,

The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,

O it’s «Thin red line of ’eroes» when the drums begin to roll.