We haven't a camelty tune of our own To help us trollop along, But every neck is a hair trombone (Ra-ta-ta-ta! is a hair trombone!) And this our marching-song: Can't! Don't! Shouldn't! Won't! Pass it along the line! Somebody's pack has slid from his back, Wish it were only mine! Somebody's load has tipped off in the road- Cheer for a halt and a row! Urrr! Yarrh! Grr! Arrh! Somebody's catching it now!