Repaired

HAULED I was from out the tip Fritz made with his demonstration, All broke up, a fractured hip In me Darby Kell a rip Settn' up a cool sensation Like excessive ventilation

One 'and cluttered up a treat- On me oath you wouldn't know it From a 'andsome plate of meat. They had sorter pied me feet, And a bullet of the foe hit Where no decent bloke could show it.

'Arf a year they've botched me now; Ev'ry scientific schemer In the cor' has faked me prow, Soled 'n' heeled a bloke somehow- Gawd, the last one was a screamer. Wirin' up me flamin' femur!

Comes a guy and pipes you square, Gogglin' at you through his glasses, Swings you in the barber's chair, Tilts you this end up with care, Lets you have a whiff of gasses Chattin' off-hand with the lasses.

Then he slices clean 'n' swift, Like a cobbler cuts his leather, Gives the splintered knob a lift- S'elp me tater, it's a gift How they glues you all together, Sayin' it's bin nicer weather!

Surgeon wipes his 'ands, a verse Chort1e softly as he pitches Probes and sponges to the nurse, Thinks the lunch might have bin worse; Close your little gap he hitches, Whistlin' as he jabs the stitches.

I'm caught in with fiddle-strings, Stuck about with bits 'n' patches, Fixed with ligatures 'n' springs, Lath 'n' plastered, swung in slings Skewered with little wooden matches, Hung with hinges, knobs 'n' latches.

Till I lay behind me screen, Serious 'n' sober one day, Satisfied 'n' all serene, 'Arf a man 'n' 'arf machine What they winds up ev'ry Monday 'N' it tilts all ways by Sunday.

'Ome again I'll come, a neat, Semi-autymatic loafer, Number up, 'n' all complete, Creakin' round on Collins Street, With a licence (which I'll owe for) My own car and my own shofer!

OUT OF KHAKI.

I SLUNG me khaki suit to-day. Civilian now front heel to chin I 'op round on a single shin; At home in peace I'm bound to stay. 'N' so they've took me duds away. It 'urt like strippin' off me skin!

I put it on three years ago, The ole brown rig. There wasn't then A prouder chicken in the pen. Jist twenty turned, me nibs you'd know For how I give me chest a throw, A man among the best of men.

Me little no the touch I give, Me chin's ez solid ez a rock, 'N' level with the Town 'All clock, A five-inch grin across me chiv. "Lor' love us, this is how to live," Sez I, 'n' felt I owned the Block.

Glad eyes was ever on the lurk, 'N' little 'earts was thumpin' warm For nippers trainin' with the swarm To swat ole Kaiser Bill, or work A toe-hold on the heathen Turk. Fair dink, I loved the uniform!

I soused mine in the brine that day When Tophet spilt, 'n' in the roar Of shells that split the sea 'n' tore Our boats to chips, we broke any Up through the pelt of leaden spray, 'N' got our first real taste of war.

They shot me tunic all to rags; Then in the perpendic'lar spree Me trousers wore off to the knee. The right-abouts of many bags Was ground off in the dust 'n' crags A-sittin' in Gallipoli.

I wore the khaki on the Somme- Most time 'twas jist a coat of mud; I once come through the battle scud Stripped mother-naked by a bomb; 'N' once it' took its color from Me own 'n' one good cobber's blood.

They cheered the khaki through the street When we come home with pipers gay, But now I'm jist a bloke in grey. Harf-lost, lob-sided, incomplete, It's nothin' but me spook you'll meet, Ghost-walkin' in the light o' day.