Sure, it's fun to be a soldier! Oh, it's fun, fun, fun,

Upon an iron shoulder-blade to tote a feather gun;

To hike with other brave galoots in easy-going army-boots;

To pack along a one-ounce sack, the commissary on your track;

To tramp, tramp, tramp, to a right-and-ready camp!

Fun? -- Sure, it's fun, just the finest ever, son!

Yes, it's fun to be a soldier! Oh, it's fun, fun, fun,

To loaf along a level road beneath a cloudless sun

Or over fields of golden grain, kept cool by puffs of wind and rain;

Then richly, more-than-fully, fed, to stretch upon a downy bed

And sleep, sleep, sleep, while the stay-at-homes weep!

Fun? -- Sure, it's fun, just the finest ever, son!

Oh, it's fun to be a soldier! Oh, it's fun, fun, fun,

To catch the silly enemy and get 'em on the run;

To here and there blow off a head with just a bit of chuckling lead;

To bayonet a foolish bloke at hide-and-seek in trench and smoke;

To shoot, shoot, shoot, till they've got no 1egs to scoot!

Fun? -- Sure, it's fun, just the finest ever, son!

God, it's fun to be a soldier! Oh, it's fun, fun, fun

To lie out still and easy when your day's sport's done;

With not a thing to worry for, nor anything to hurry for;

Not hungry, thirsty, tired, but a hero much-admired;

Just dead, dead, dead, like Jack and Bill and Fred!

Fun? -- Sure, it's fun, just the finest ever, son!