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My Job

by
 I've got a little job on 'and, the time is drawin' nigh;
 At seven by the Captain's watch I'm due to go and do it;
I wants to 'ave it nice and neat, and pleasin' to the eye,
 And I 'opes the God of soldier men will see me safely through it.
Because, you see, it's somethin' I 'ave never done before; And till you 'as experience noo stunts is always tryin'; The chances is I'll never 'ave to do it any more: At seven by the Captain's watch my little job is .
.
.
dyin'.
I've got a little note to write; I'd best begin it now.
I ain't much good at writin' notes, but here goes: "Dearest Mother, I've been in many 'ot old `do's'; I've scraped through safe some'ow, But now I'm on the very point of tacklin' another.
A little job of hand-grenades; they called for volunteers.
They picked me out; I'm proud of it; it seems a trifle dicky.
If anythin' should 'appen, well, there ain't no call for tears, And so .
.
.
I 'opes this finds you well.
-- Your werry lovin' Micky.
" I've got a little score to settle wiv them swine out there.
I've 'ad so many of me pals done in it's quite upset me.
I've seen so much of bloody death I don't seem for to care, If I can only even up, how soon the blighters get me.
I'm sorry for them perishers that corpses in a bed; I only 'opes mine's short and sweet, no linger-longer-lyin'; I've made a mess of life, but now I'll try to make instead .
.
.
It's seven sharp.
Good-bye, old pals! .
.
.
a decent job in dyin'.

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