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