Gunga Din Lyrics - Jim Croce

You may talk of gin and beer 

When you're stationed way out here 

An' you're sent to penny fights an' Aldershot it 

But when it comes to slaughter 

You will do your work for water 

An' you'll lick the boots of 'im that's got it 

Now in Inja's sunny clime 

Where I used to spend my time 

Servin' her Majesty the Queen 

Of all the black faced crew 

The finest man I knew 

Was regimental bhisti, Gunga Din 

The uniform he wore 

Was nothin' much before 

An' rather less than half of that behind 

But a piece of twisty rag 

An' a goatskin water bag 

Was all the field equipment he could find 

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When a sweatin' troop train lay 

In a sidin' through the day 

Where the heat would make you bloomin' eyebrows crawl 

We shouted, "Harry By" 

Till our throats were bricky-dry 

Then wopped him 'cause he couldn't serve us all 

He would dot an' carry one 

Till the longest day was done 

An' never seemed to know the use of fear 

If we charged or broke or cut 

You could bet your bloomin' nut 

He'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear 

With his mussick on his back 

He would skip to our attack 

An' watch us till the bugles made"Retire" 

An' for all his dirty hide 

He was white, clear white inside 

When he went to tend the wounded under fire 

It was Din, Din, Din 

With the bullets kickin' dust spots on the green 

And when the cartridges ran out 

You could hear the front files shout 

Send ammunition mules, and Gunga Din! 

I shan't forget the night 

When I fell behind the fight 

With a bullet where my belt plate should a' been 

I was chokin' mad with thirst 

An' the man that spied me first 

Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din 

He lifted up my head 

An' he plugged me where I bled 

An' he gave me half a pint of water green 

It was crawlin' and it stunk 

But of all the drinks I've drunk 

I'm most grateful to the one from Gunga Din 

He carried me away 

To where a dooli lay 

An' a bullet came and drilled the beggar clean 

He carried me inside 

An' just before he died 

I hope you like your drink said Gunga Din 

So I'll meet him later on 

In the place where he as gone 

Where it's always double drill and no canteen 

He'll be squattin' on the coals 

Givin' drink to poor damn souls 

I'll catch a swig in hell from Gunga Din 

It was Din, Din, Din 

You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din 

Tho' I've belted you an' flayed you 

By the livin' God that made you 

Your a better man than I am, Gunga Din