“What are the bugles blowin' for?” said Files-on-Parade. “To turn you out, to turn you out”, the… — Rudyard Kipling

So I'll meet 'im later on

At the place where 'e is gone—

Where it's always double drill and no canteen.

'E'll be squattin' on the coals

Givin' drink to poor damned souls,

An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!

Yes, Din! Din! Din!

You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!

Though I've belted you and flayed you,

By the livin' Gawd that made you,

You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!

For to admire an' for to see,

For to be'old this world so wide—

It never done no good to me,

But I can't drop it if I tried!

An' I learned about women from 'er.