Gunga Din

Capo 5.  

(Spoken) 
           Am               G 
You may talk of gin and beer 
                C               E 
When you're stationed way out here 
Am                          G                 Am 
An' you're sent to penny fights an' Aldershot it 
         Am             G 
But when it comes to slaughter 
          C                 E 
You will do your work for water 
            Am                   G              Am 
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it. 

        Am            G 
Now in Inja's sunny clime 
           C              E 
Where I used to spend my time 
Am            G           Am 
Servin' her Majesty the Queen 
      Am                G 
Of all the black faced crew 
     C            E 
The finest man I knew 
        Am      G            Am 
Was regimental bhisti, Gunga Din 

     Am         G 
The uniform he wore 
        C           E 
Was nothin' much before 
Am                        G          Am 
An' rather less than half of that behind 
        Am              G 
But a piece of twisty rag 
        C               E 
An' a goatskin water bag 
         Am             G               Am 
Was all the field equipment he could find 

        G 
When a sweatin' troop train lay 
        Am     G        Am 
In a sidin' through the day 
           C                     G               Am 
Where the heat would make you bloomin' eyebrows crawl 
      Am            G 
We shouted, "Harry by� 
        C                     E 
Till our throats were bricky-dry 
        Am              G                   Am 
Then wopped him 'cause he couldn't serve us all. 

           Am           G 
He would dot an' carry one 
        C                   E 
Till the longest day was done 
       Am               G           Am 
An' never seemed to know the use of fear 
        Am                G 
If we charged a broke or cut 
            C                E 
You could bet your bloomin' nut 
          Am            G               Am 
He'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear. 

        G 
With his mussick on his back 
           Am     G      Am 
He would skip to our attack 
         C              G             Am 
An' watch us till the bugles made â??Retire" 
        Am              G 
An' for all his dirty hide 
             C                E 
He was white, clear white inside 
            Am             G            Am 
When he went to tend the wounded under fire. 

(Spoken) 
        Am   G    C     E 
It was Din, Din, Din 
          C               G                 Am 
With the bullets kickin' dust spots on the green 
                C            G 
And when the cartridges ran out 
             C                  E 
You could hear the front files shout 
        C               G         Am 
Send ammunition mules, and Gunga Din! 

    Am                 G 
I shan't forget the night 
        C               E 
When I fell behind the fight 
        Am                  G               Am 
With a bullet where my belt plate should a' been 
        Am               G 
I was chokin' mad with thirst 

        C                   E 
An' the man that spied me first 
            Am               G           Am 
Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din 

       G 
He lifted up my head 
        Am         G      Am 
An' he plugged me where I bled 
        C               G            Am 
An' he gave me half a pint of water green 
        Am              G 
It was crawlin' and it stunk 
        C                     E 
But of all the drinks I've drunk 
           Am              G            Am 
I'm most grateful to the one from Gunga Din 

       Am       G 
He carried me away 
        C         E 
To where a dooli lay 
        Am              G                  Am 
An' a bullet came and drilled the beggar clean 
       Am         G 
He carried me inside 
       C             E 
An' just before he died 
   Am                   G               Am 
I hope you liked your drink said Gunga Din. 

        G 
So I'll meet him later on 
        Am         G      Am 
In the place where he as gone 
              C               G           Am 
Where it's always double drill and no canteen 
            Am              G 
He'll be squattin' on the coals 
        C                      E 
Givin' drinks to poor damned souls 
      Am              G               Am 
I'll catch a swig in hell from Gunga Din 

       Am   G     C       E 
It was Din, Din, Din 
        C        G             Am 
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din 

            C                   G 
Tho' I've belted you an' flayed you 
              C              E 
By the livin' God that made you 
        C                G           Am     G Am C E Am G Am 
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din