Gunga Din

A   D

[Verse 1]
D
You may talk o' gin and beer
G
When you're quartered safe out 'ere,
           D                       
An' you're sent to penny-fights an'
      A
 Aldershot it;
    D
But when it comes to slaughter
         G
You will do your work on water,
           A                       
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots 
              D
of 'im that's got it.
       G
Now in Injia's sunny clime,
  D
I used to spend my time
D                                
All a-servin' of 'Er Majesty the 
A
Queen,
   D
Of all them blackfaced crew
    G
The finest man I knew
        A                       
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga 
 D
Din.
        G    G    G
He was “Din! Din! Din!
G           D
You limpin' lump o' brick-dust, 
Gunga Din!
D
Hi! slippery hitherao!
       G
Water, get it! Panee lao!
    A                             
You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga 
D
Din.”

[Instrumental]
A   D

[Verse 2]
D
The uniform 'e wore
    G
Was nothin' much before,
    D                            
An' rather less than 'arf o' that 
   A
be'ind,
    D
For a piece o' twisty rag
    G
An' a goatskin water-bag
    A                              
Was all the field-equipment 'e 
  D
could find.
         G
When the sweatin' troop-train lay
     D
In a sidin' through the day,
D                            
Where the 'eat would make your 
                    A
bloomin' eyebrows crawl,
   D
We shouted “Harry By!”
     G
Till our throats were bricky-dry,
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        A                   
Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e 
                   D
couldn't serve us all.
        G    G    G
It was “Din! Din! Din!
G    D
You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave
 you been?
D
You put some juldee in it
G
Or I'll marrow you this minute
       A                       
If you don't fill up my helmet, 
       D
Gunga Din!”

[Verse 3]
D
'E would dot an' carry one
     G
Till the longest day was done;
       D                           
An' 'e didn't seem to know the use 
   A
o' fear.
      D
If we charged or broke or cut,
          G
You could bet your bloomin' nut,
        A                        
'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right 
       D
flank rear.
         G
With 'is mussick on 'is back,
         D
'E would skip with our attack,
D                                 
An' he'd watch us till the bugles 
      A
made “Retire”,
        D
An' for all 'is dirty 'ide
       G
'E was white, clear white, inside
        A                       
When 'e went to tend the wounded 
       D
under fire!
        G    G    G
It was “Din! Din! Din!”
G                D
With the bullets kickin' dust-spots 
on the green.
D
When the cartridges ran out,
          G
You could hear the front-files 
shout,
     A                         
“Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga 
 D
Din!”

[Instrumental]
A   D

[Verse 4]
D
I shan't forgit the night
       G
When I dropped be'ind the fight
       D                         
With a bullet where my belt-plate 
            A
should 'a' been.
      D
I was chokin' mad with thirst,
        G
An' the man that spied me first
        A                          
Was our good old grinnin', gruntin'
       D
 Gunga Din.
   G
'E lifted up my 'ead,
       D
An' he plugged me where I bled,
D                          
An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' 
        A
water-green:
       D
It was crawlin' and it stunk,
       G
But of all the drinks I've drunk,
    A                              
I'm gratefullest to one from Gunga 
D
Din.
        G    G    G
It was “Din! Din! Din!
G               D
'Ere's a beggar with a bullet 
through 'is spleen;
     D
'E's chawin' up the ground,
     G
'E's kickin' all around:
    A                              
For Gawd's sake git the water, 
  D
Gunga Din!”

[Verse 5]
D
'E carried me away
   G
To where a dooli lay,
      D                          
An' a bullet come an' drilled the 
        A
beggar clean.
   D
'E put me safe inside,
    G
An' just before 'e died,
    A                              
“I 'ope you liked your drink”, sez 
      D
Gunga Din.
        G
So I'll meet 'im later on
       D
At the place where 'e is gone--
      D                            
Where it's always double drill and 
   A
no canteen;
         D
'E'll be squattin' on the coals
       G
Givin' drink to poor damned souls,
         A                      
An' I'll get a swig in hell from 
       D
Gunga Din!
     G    G    G
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
G       D
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
            D
Though I've belted you and flayed 
you,
       G
By the livin' Gawd that made you,
         A                         
You're a better man than I am, 
  D
Gunga Din!