I Don't Want To Join The Army

CHORUS:I don't want to join the army,
I don't want to go to war.
I'd rather hang around Piccadilly Underground,
Living on the earnings of a high born lady.
I don't want a bayonet up me asshole,
I don't want me balls shot away.
I'd rather stay in England, in merry, merry England,
And fornicate me fucking life away. Go blimey ...

Monday I touched her on the ankle,
Tuesday I touched her on the knee,
And Wednesday, I must confess, I lifted up her dress,
Thursday I saw you know what,
Friday I laid me 'and upon it,
Saturday she gave me balls a twitch, twitch, twitch,
And Sunday after supper, I rammed me fucker up 'er,
And now I'm paying 76 a week. Go blimey ...

SECOND
CHORUS:I don't want to join the Navy.
I don't want to go to sea.
I'd rather hang around Piccadilly Underground,
Living on the earnings of a high born lady.
I don't need no Frenchy women,
London's full of girls I never had.
I want to stay in Blighty, Lord Gawd Almighty,
Following in the footsteps of me dad.

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