anti-recruiter songs

[rakehell.livejournal.com]

"Arthur McBride" [written down in Limerick in 1840 and recorded by Bob Dylan in 1992]

Good morning, good morning, the Sergeant he cried.
And the same to you, gentlemen, we did reply,
Intending no harm but meant to pass by,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'.

But, says he, My fine fellows, if you will enlist,
Ten guineas in gold I'll stick to your fist,
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust,
And drink the king's health in the morning.

For a soldier, he leads a very fine life,
And he always is blessed with a charming young wife,
And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife,
And he always lives pleasant and charmin',

And a soldier, he always is decent and clean,
In the finest of clothing he's constantly seen.
While other poor fellows go dirty and mean,
And sup on thin gruel in the morning.

Says Arthur, I wouldn't be proud of your clothes,
For you've only the lend of them, as I suppose,
But you dare not change them one night, for you know
If you do, you'll be flogged in the morning.

And we have no desire to take your advance,
All hazards and dangers we barter on chance,
For you'd have no scruples for to send us to France,
Where we would get shot without warning.

--
"The Recruiting Sergeant" written by Seamus O'Farrell (WWI-era). It was covered recently by the Pogues:

As I was walking down the road a feeling fine and larky oh
A recruiting sergeant come up to me, says he "you'd like fine in khaki oh
For the King he is in need of men, come read this proclamation oh
A life in Flanders for you then, 't would be a fine vacation oh"

"That may be so" says I to him "but tell me Sergeant deary-oh
if I had a pack stuck upon me back would I look fine and cheery-oh
For they'd have you train and drill until they had you one of Frenchies
oh it may be warm in Flanders but it's draughty in the trenches oh"

The sergeant smiled and winked his eye, his smile was most provoking oh
he twiddled and twirled his wee moustache, says he "You're only joking oh
for the sandbags are so warm and high the wind you won't feel blowing oh
well I winked at a caitlin passing by, says I, "What if it's snowing oh"

Come rain or hail or wind or snow I'm not going out to Flanders oh
There's fighting in Dublin to be done, let your sergeants and your commanders go
Let Englishmen fight English wars, it's nearly time they started oh
I saluted the sergeant a very good night, there and then we parted oh

credit: http://hnn.us/articles/printfriendly/9143.html