W E VE fought with many men acrost the seas, An some of em was brave an some was not, The Paythan an the Zulu an Burmese; But the Fuzzy was the finest o the lot. We never got a haporths change of im: 5 E squatted in the scrub an ocked our orses, E cut our sentries up at Suakim, An e played the cat an banjo with our forces. So ere s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your ome in the Soudan; You re a pore benighted eathen but a first-class fightin man; 10 We gives you your certificate, an if you want it signed We ll come an ave a romp with you whenever you re inclined. We took our chanst among the Kyber ills, The Boers knocked us silly at a mile, The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills, 15 An a Zulu impi dished us up in style: But all we ever got from such as they Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller; We eld our bloomin own, the papers say, But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us oller. 20 Then ere s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an the missis and the kid; Our orders was to break you, an of course we went an did. We sloshed you with Martinis, an it was nt ardly fair; But for all the odds agin you, Fuzzy-Wuz, you broke the square. E as nt got no papers of is own, 25 E as nt got no medals nor rewards, So we must certify the skill e s shown In usin of is long two-anded swords: When e s oppin in an out among the bush With is coffin-eaded shield an shovel-spear, 30 An appy day with Fuzzy on the rush Will last an ealthy Tommy for a year. So ere s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an your friends which are no more, If we ad nt lost some messmates we would elp you to deplore; But give an take s the gospel, an we ll call the bargain fair, 35 For if you ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square! E rushes at the smoke when we let drive, An, before we know, e s ackin at our ead; E s all ot sand an ginger when alive, An e s generally shammin when e s dead. 40 E s a daisy, e s a ducky, e s a lamb! E s a injia-rubber idiot on the spree, E s the ony thing that does nt give a damn For a Regiment o British Infantree! So ere s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your ome in the Soudan; 45 You re a pore benighted eathen but a first-class fightin man; An ere s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your ayrick ead of air You big black boundin beggarfor you broke a British square!