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You may talk of gin and beer
when youand're stationed way out here
anand' youand're sent to penny fights anand' aldershot it
but when it comes to slaughter
you will do your work for water
anand' youand'll lick the boots of and'im thatand's got it
now in injaand's sunny clime
where i used to spend my time
servinand' her majesty the queen
of all the black faced crew
the finest man i knew
was regimental bhisti, gunga din
The uniform he wore
was nothinand' much before
anand' rather less than half of that behind
but a piece of twisty rag
anand' a goatskin water bag
was all the field equipment he could find
When a sweatinand' troop train lay
in a sidinand' through the day
where the heat would make you bloominand' eyebrows crawl
we shouted, andquot;harry byandquot;
till our throats were bricky-dry
then wopped him and'cause he couldnand't serve us all
he would dot anand' carry one
till the longest day was done
anand' never seemed to know the use of fear
if we charged or broke or cut
you could bet your bloominand' nut
heand'd be waitinand' fifty paces right flank rear
with his mussick on his back
he would skip to our attack
anand' watch us till the bugles madeandquot;retireandquot;
anand' for all his dirty hide
he was white, clear white inside
when he went to tend the wounded under fire
It was din, din, din
with the bullets kickinand' dust spots on the green
and when the cartridges ran out
you could hear the front files shout
send ammunition mules, and gunga din!
i shanand't forget the night
when i fell behind the fight
with a bullet where my belt plate should aand' been
i was chokinand' mad with thirst
anand' the man that spied me first
was our good old grinninand', gruntinand' gunga din
he lifted up my head
anand' he plugged me where i bled
anand' he gave me half a pint of water green
it was crawlinand' and it stunk
but of all the drinks iand've drunk
iand'm most grateful to the one from gunga din
He carried me away
to where a dooli lay
anand' a bullet came and drilled the beggar clean
he carried me inside
anand' just before he died
i hope you like your drink said gunga din
so iand'll meet him later on
in the place where he as gone
where itand's always double drill and no canteen
heand'll be squattinand' on the coals
givinand' drink to poor damn souls
iand'll catch a swig in hell from gunga din
It was din, din, din
you lazarushian-leather gunga din
thoand' iand've belted you anand' flayed you
by the livinand' god that made you
your a better man than i am, gunga din
Jim Croce
Gunga din
Gunga din
You may talk of gin and beer
when youand're stationed way out here
anand' youand're sent to penny fights anand' aldershot it
but when it comes to slaughter
you will do your work for water
anand' youand'll lick the boots of and'im thatand's got it
now in injaand's sunny clime
where i used to spend my time
servinand' her majesty the queen
of all the black faced crew
the finest man i knew
was regimental bhisti, gunga din
The uniform he wore
was nothinand' much before
anand' rather less than half of that behind
but a piece of twisty rag
anand' a goatskin water bag
was all the field equipment he could find
When a sweatinand' troop train lay
in a sidinand' through the day
where the heat would make you bloominand' eyebrows crawl
we shouted, andquot;harry byandquot;
till our throats were bricky-dry
then wopped him and'cause he couldnand't serve us all
he would dot anand' carry one
till the longest day was done
anand' never seemed to know the use of fear
if we charged or broke or cut
you could bet your bloominand' nut
heand'd be waitinand' fifty paces right flank rear
with his mussick on his back
he would skip to our attack
anand' watch us till the bugles madeandquot;retireandquot;
anand' for all his dirty hide
he was white, clear white inside
when he went to tend the wounded under fire
It was din, din, din
with the bullets kickinand' dust spots on the green
and when the cartridges ran out
you could hear the front files shout
send ammunition mules, and gunga din!
i shanand't forget the night
when i fell behind the fight
with a bullet where my belt plate should aand' been
i was chokinand' mad with thirst
anand' the man that spied me first
was our good old grinninand', gruntinand' gunga din
he lifted up my head
anand' he plugged me where i bled
anand' he gave me half a pint of water green
it was crawlinand' and it stunk
but of all the drinks iand've drunk
iand'm most grateful to the one from gunga din
He carried me away
to where a dooli lay
anand' a bullet came and drilled the beggar clean
he carried me inside
anand' just before he died
i hope you like your drink said gunga din
so iand'll meet him later on
in the place where he as gone
where itand's always double drill and no canteen
heand'll be squattinand' on the coals
givinand' drink to poor damn souls
iand'll catch a swig in hell from gunga din
It was din, din, din
you lazarushian-leather gunga din
thoand' iand've belted you anand' flayed you
by the livinand' god that made you
your a better man than i am, gunga din
