No mark what follows what they betide
For it be an old Christmas morning
Good morning, good morning,
Intended no harm, but meant to pass by
For it'd be an old Christmas morning
And a soldier, he always is decent and clean
In the finest of clothing
And sup off and gruel in the morning
Says Arthur, I wouldn't be
For you've only a lend of them,
for one night that you know
If you do, you'll be flogged
And although that we are single and free
Oh no, says the sergeant,
And I neither will take it from
For if you insult me with one other word
I'll cut off your head in the morning
And we scarce gave them time
to turn all the wrong blades
When a trusty chalet lay over their heads
And bade them take that as fair warning
And they were all rusty rapiers
And we flung them as far as
Now take them out devils,
And temper their edge in the mornin'
And the little wee drummer
And bid him a tedious returnin'
As we went walking down by the seaside
Now mark what follows, what the betide
For it bein' a Christmas mornin'