Boots

Seven, six, 11, five, nine, and 20 miles today Four, 11, 17, 32 the day before Boots, boots, boots, boots, moving up and down again There's no discharge in the war Don't, don't, don't, don't look at what's in front of you Boots, boots, boots, boots, moving up and down again Men, men, men, men, men go mad with watchin' 'em Count, count, count, count the bullets in the bandoliers If your eyes drop, they will get atop of you Boots, boots, boots, boots, moving up and down again There's no discharge in the war It's so bad by day because of company But night brings long strings of 40 thousand million Boots, boots, boots, boots, moving up and down again I have marched six weeks in Hell and certify It is not fire, devils, dark, or anything But boots, boots, boots, boots, moving up and down again Try, try, try, try to think of something different Oh my God, keep me from going lunatic Boots, boots, boots, boots, moving up and down again There's no discharge in the war