Things Are Looking Up

A bunch of frightened rookies were list'ning filled with awe
They listened while a sergeant was laying down the law
They stood there at attention,
Their faces turning red
The sergeant looked them over and this is what he said:

This is the army, Mister Jones
No private rooms or telephones
You had your breakfast in bed before
But you won't have it there any more

This is the army, Mister Green
We like the barracks nice and clean
You had a housemaid to clean your floor
But she won't help you out anymore

Do what the buglers command
They're in the army and not in a band

This is the army, Mister Brown
You and your baby went to town
She had you worried
But this is war and she won't worry you anymore

This is the army, Mister Jones
No private rooms or telephones
You had your breakfast in bed before
But you won't have it there any more