Through the Plagues of Egyp' we was chasin' Arabi,
⁠Gettin' down an' shovin' in the sun;
An' you might 'ave called us dirty, an' you might ha' called us dry,
⁠An' you might 'ave 'eard us talkin' at the gun.
But the Captain 'ad 'is jacket, an' the jacket it was new—
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song!)
An' the wettin' of the jacket is the proper thing to do,
⁠Nor we didn't keep 'im waiting very long.

One day they gave us orders for to shell a sand redoubt,
⁠Loadin' down the axle-arms with case;
But the Captain knew 'is dooty, an' he took the crackers out