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I've marched
along and limped around this old base too long,
Rookies course
too long, but posting coming on,
I've swept around
and dusted around this old place too long,
And I feel like
I've got to travel on.
Mamas write to
rookiies, but rookies can't go home,
Money's coming
slow, "cos saluting are far too low,
Boyfriends write
to rookies, but rookies daren't go home
' Cos we've been
on this panic far too long.
Officers and
NCO's roaring out at me - all the time yeh,
Chasing after me
and screaming out at me,
Officers and
NCO's yelling out at me
And I feel like
I'd better travel on.
I've ironed
around and fussed around these old drabs too long,
Starch is far too
strong and patience almost gone,
With bedrolls and
inspections we're up before the dawn,
So we feel like
we'd better travel on.
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When backcourse
is on our minds we can't frarerise
And play - study
all our weekends, waste our nights away,
Stitching on our
name tags for kit inspection day,
But we feel like
we'd better travel on.
Doctors and
sisters getting sick of us,
With our
vaccinations and a lot of other fuss,
Mercurochrome and
plaster has saved a lot of us,
But we feel like
we'd better travel on.
Tho' we've had
our grumbles we've had a lot of fun,
Officers
andNCOo's we thank them every one,
They've guided
all our foot steps and showed us right from wrong,
And we're sorry
but we have to travel on.
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