The Cholera Camp, by Bellowhead
verse 1,
C
We’ve the cholera in camp,
C F C
And it’s worse than forty fights,
G G7
And we’re dying in the wilderness,
C F C
The same as Israelites,
C
It’s before us and behind us,
C
And we cannot get away,
G G7
And the doctor’s just reported,
C F C
That we’ve ten more today.
Chorus,
C
Oh strike your camp and go,
C
The bugle’s calling,
G
The rains a-falling
G G7
The dead are bushed and stoned
C G7 C
To keep them safe below,
C C
And bands are doing all they can to cheer us
G G7 C F C
The chaplain’s gone and prayed to god to hear us,
C G C
To hear us
C F G7 C
Oh lord for it’s the killing of us all
verse 2
C
Since August when it started,
C F C
It’s been sticking to our tail,
G G7
For they’ve had us out by marches,
C F C
And they’ve had us back by rail
C
But it runs as fast as troop trains,
C
And we cannot get away,
G G7 C F C
And the sick list to the Colonel makes ten more today,
verse 3
C
And there ain’t no fun in women,
C F C
And there ain’t no bite to drink,
G G7
It’s much too wet for shooting,
C F C
We can only march and think.
C
And at evening, down the nullahs,
C
We can hear the jackals say,
G G7 C F C
Get up you rotten beggars you’ve got ten more today,
(Chorus)
verse 4
C
And it would make a monkey cough
F C
See our way of doing things,
G G7
Lieutenants taking companies,
C F C
And captains taking wings,
C
And lances acting sergeants,
They file to obey,
G G7 C F C
Yes there’s lots of big promotion on ten deaths a day
Verse 5
C
And our colonel’s white and twittery,
F C
And he gets no sleep or food,
G G7
He just mucks about in hospital,
C F C
Where nothing does no good,
C
And he sends us heaps of comfort,
C
All bought from his pay,
G G7 C F C
But there ain’t much comfort handy on ten deaths a day
(Chorus)
Verse 6
C
And our chaplain he’s got a banjo,
F C
And a skinny mule he rides,
G G7
And the stuff he says and sings,
C F C
Oh lord it makes us split our sides,
C
With his black coat-tails a-bobbing,
C
To tara-ra-boom-de-ay,
G G7 C F C
Oh he’s a proper sort of Padre for ten deaths a day,
Verse 7
C
We’ve the cholera in camp,
F C
We’ve got it hot and sweet,
G G7
And it ain’t no Christmas dinner,
C F C
But it’s served and we must eat,
C
And we’ve gone beyond the funking,
C
C’us’ we’ve found it doesn’t pay,
G C F C
And we’re rocking round the district on ten deaths a day
Chorus (Version 2)
C
Oh strike your camp and go,
The bugle’s calling,
G
The rains a-falling
G7
The dead are bushed and stoned
C G C
To keep them safe below,
C
And them that do not like it they can lump it,
G G7 C F C
And them that cannot stand it they can jump it,
C
For we’ve got to die somewhere, some way some how,
G G7
So we might as well begin to do it now
Verse 8
C
So number one, let down the tent poles slow,
G G7 C
Knock out the pegs and hold the corners oh,
C
Furl up the flies, fold up the ropes and stow,
C F G7 C
Oh strike, Oh strike your camp and go.