Don’t turn the soldier down.  You may,
  For aught you know, or others say,
  Be entertaining, unawares,
  An angel; and, if not, who cares? 
  For, be he good, bad, weak or strong,
  ’Mid summer’s sun or winter’s storm,
  You call on him to right your wrong,
  Altho he wears a uniform.

  In the cold Grey dawn of the morning after

  Bring me a dry Martini, waiter,
    Chase in something that’s wet,
  I was out to a clam bake yesterday,
    And I haven’t got over it yet.

  Throw me a pleasant look, waiter,
    Smile at me pretty, don’t frown,
  And pour some glue on my breakfast
    So I can keep it down.

  I hear they have discovered the pole, waiter,
    I wish I had it here now,
  They can’t come any too cold for me
    To put on my aching brow.

  Many a schooner was wrecked last night,
    And the waves ran mountain high. 
  Personally, I was soused to the gills,
    But today I’m awfully dry.

  It was a terrible night at sea, waiter,
  And many are missing, I think,
  But as near as I can remember
  I never missed a drink.

  The one in blue got my purse, waiter,
  Her side-kick got my clock,
  I don’t want to know what time it is,
  Please lead me down to the dock.

  Lead me down to the dock, waiter,
  For a watery grave I pine,
  The place for a man that is pickled
  Is over my head in brine.

  Tell them in Olongapo,
  I died as a hero should,
  Up to the neck, in cold, cold suds
  Guaranteed drawn from the wood.

  I’d like to leave you a gift, waiter,
  Just to remember me by
  And to show you that I’m not tight,
  You can have my piece of pie.

  And after I sink in the water, waiter,
  You’ll do me a favor, I hope. 
  Tell them, if I blow up bubbles
  It wasn’t from eating soap.

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE POSTER

  They told me that the Army was a joy for evermore;
  They told me of the pleasures I’d have in it by the score;
  They told me of its comforts and the jolly life I’d lead,
  But by thunder they have fooled me and I’m sorrowful indeed—­
    I ever joined the Army.

  They told me of the polished boots and the buttons bright I’d wear,
  And of the splendid things I’d find upon the bill-of-fare;
  But never a word they told me in the fine recruiting shop,
  Of hoeing weeds upon the roads, or hauling out the slops—­
    When I joined the Army.

  They told me of the pleasant hours, away from every care,
  I could spend when not on duty, in town or anywhere;
  But a thing they never told me is the punishment they’d mete
  Out to a luckless rookie who went absent from retreat—­
    In Uncle Samuel’s Army.

  They told me of the canteen, where good lager beer is sold,
  And of the fine post hospital, that cures all kinds of colds;
  But a hint about the guard-house they never to me gave,
  That skeleton they kept hidden as though buried in a grave—­
    Until I joined the Army.