There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train, A
And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor, B
There's the girl who does a milk-round in the rain, A
And the girl who calls for orders at your door. B
Strong, sensible, and fit, C
They're out to show their grit, C
And tackle jobs with energy and knack. D
No longer caged and penned up, E
They're going to keep their end up E
Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back. D
There's the motor girl who drives a heavy van, F
There's the butcher girl who brings your joint of meat, G
There's the girl who cries 'All fares, please!' like a man, F
And the girl who whistles taxis up the street. G
Beneath each uniform H
Beats a heart that's soft and warm, H
Though of canny mother-wit they show no lack; D
But a solemn statement this is, I
They've no time for love and kisses I
Till the khaki soldier-boys come marching back. D
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