Poor Boy

This is a story of a poor boy, poor boy, poor boy,
Who was sent far away from his home
To fight for his king and his country,
And also the old folks back home
So they put him on a cross channel ferry, ferry, ferry
Sent him off to a far foreign land
Where the fly swarmed around in there thousands
And all he could see was the sand
Oh the battle did start the next morning, morning, morning
Under the hot desert sun
I remember the poor scouser Harry
He was shot by an old Tommy Gunn.
As he laid on the battle field dieing, dieing, dieing
With the blood rushing out of his head
I remember the poor scouser Harry
And these were the last words he said:
"St Paul's College rugby team, rugby team, rugby team
we're going over we're never sober
St Paul's collage rugby team, rugby team, rugby team