Some day when the war is ended

And we sail from France away,

With sorrow and longings blended,

Back home to America;

And we live once more in Blighty

A thousand years in a day,

In the Land of God Almighty

Where the Old Folks watch and pray:

Some day, when we hit the pillow

Again on a box-spring bed,

As snug as an armadillo

With his shell-protected head;

When bugles refrain from tooting,

And noises of battle stop;

When victory ends recruiting,

Or charging Over the Top:

Some day! when we're thru with fighting

And the beaten Hun retreats;

When the Cooties cease from biting

And we sleep between the sheets!