Lyrics: Jam (The). Sound Of The Jam. Eton Rifles, The.

Sup up your beer and collect your fags,
There's a row going on down near Slough,
Get out your mat and pray to the West,
I'll get out mine and pray for myself.

Thought you were smart when you took them on,
But you didn't take a peep in their artillery room,
All that rugby puts hairs on your chest,
What chance have you got against a tie and a crest.

Hello-Hurrahwhat a nice dayfor the Eton Rifles,
Hello-HurrahI hope rain stops playwith the Eton Rifles.

Thought you were clever when you lit the fuse,
Tore down the house of commons in your brand new shoes,
Compose a revolutionary symphony,
Then went to bed with a charming young thing.

Hello-Hurrahcheers then mateits the Eton Rifles,
Hello-Hurrahan extremist scrapewith the Eton Rifles.

What a catalyst you turned out to be,
Loaded the guns then you run off home for your tea,
Left me standinglike a guilty (naughty) schoolboy.

We came out of it naturally the worst,
Beaten and bloody and I was sick down my shirt,
We were no match for their untamed wit,
Though some of the lads said they'll be back next week.

Hello-Hurrah there's a price to payto the Eton Rifles,
Hello-Hurrah I'd prefer the plagueto the Eton Rifles.

Hello-Hurrah there's a price to payto the Eton Rifles,
Hello-Hurrah I'd prefer the plagueto the Eton Rifles