Bellowhead - The cholera camp

^CWe’ve the cholera in camp, And it’^Cs worse tha^Fn fort^Cy fights, And we’r^Ge dying in th^G7e wilderness, The ^Csame as ^FIsrae^Clites, It’^Cs before us and behind us, And we ^Ccannot get away, And the ^Gdoctor’s just ^G7reported, That we’v^Ce te^Fn mor^Ce today.

Oh ^Cstrike your camp and go, The bugle’^Cs calling, The rains a-^Gfalling The ^Gdead are bushed and ^G7stoned To keep them ^Csafe ^G7belo^Cw, And ^Cbands are doing all they can to ^Ccheer us ^GThe chaplain’s gone an^G7d prayed to god t^Co ^Fhea^Cr us, To ^Che^Gar ^Cus Oh ^Clord for it’s th^Fe killin^G7g of u^Cs all

^CSince August when it started, It’s bee^Cn stickin^Fg to ou^Cr tail, For they’v^Ge had us out b^G7y marches, And they’v^Ce had u^Fs back b^Cy rail But it ^Cruns as fast as troop trains, And we cannot get a^Cway, And the ^Gsick list to the ^G7Colonel makes ^Cten ^Fmore ^Ctoday,

^CAnd there ain’t no fun in women, And there ^Cain’t n^Fo bite t^Co drink, It’^Gs much too wet fo^G7r shooting, We can ^Conly ^Fmarch and ^Cthink. And at ^Cevening, down the nullahs, We can ^Chear the jackals say, Get ^Gup you rotten ^G7beggars you’ve go^Ct te^Fn mor^Ce today,

And it would ^Cmake a monkey cough See our way of ^Fdoing ^Cthings, Lieu^Gtenants taking ^G7companies, And ^Ccaptains ^Ftaking ^Cwings, And ^Clances acting sergeants,

Yes there’^Gs lots of big p^G7romotion o^Cn te^Fn deaths ^Ca day

And our ^Ccolonel’s white and twittery, And he gets no ^Fsleep or ^Cfood, He just ^Gmucks about in ^G7hospital, Where ^Cnothing ^Fdoes no ^Cgood, And he ^Csends us heaps of comfort, All ^Cbought from his pay, But there ^Gain’t much comfor^G7t handy o^Cn te^Fn deaths ^Ca day

And our ^Cchaplain he’s got a banjo, And a skinny ^Fmule he ^Crides, And the ^Gstuff he says and ^G7sings, Oh lord it ^Cmakes us ^Fsplit our ^Csides,

With his ^Cblack coat-tails a-bobbing, To ^Ctara-ra-boom-de-ay, Oh he’s ^Ga proper sort o^G7f Padre fo^Cr te^Fn deaths ^Ca day,

We’ve th^Ce cholera in camp, We’ve got i^Ft hot an^Cd sweet, And it ^Gain’t no Christma^G7s dinner, But it’^Cs served an^Fd we mus^Ct eat, And we’v^Ce gone beyond the funking, C’us’ we^C’ve found it doesn’t pay, And we’r^Ge rocking round the district o^Cn te^Fn deaths ^Ca day

Oh ^Cstrike your camp and go, The bugle’s calling, The rains a-^Gfalling The dead are bushed and ^G7stoned To keep them ^Csafe ^Gbe^Clow, And ^Cthem that do not like it they can lump it, And ^Gthem that cannot ^G7stand it they can ^Cju^Fmp ^Cit, For we’v^Ce got to die somewhere, some way some how, So we ^Gmight as well begin to do it n^G7ow

So ^Cnumber one, let down the tent poles slow, Knock ^Gout the pegs and ^G7hold the corners ^Coh, Furl ^Cup the flies, fold up the ropes and stow, Oh ^Cstrike, Oh ^Fstrike your ^G7camp and ^Cgo.