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With These We'll Bivouac.

He who wears a regimental suit,
Oft is poor as is some raw recruit,
But what of that!
Girls will follow when they hear the drum,
To view the tassel and the waving plume,
That deck his hat!
Oh! he will sing when he's not on duty,
Smoke his cigar, or flirt with some gay beauty!
Oh, vive l'amour, cigars and cognac,
Hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra! with these we'll bivouac,
Oh, vive l'amour, &c.

When we march into a country town,
Prudes may fly from us, and dames may frown.
All that's absurd!
When we march away we leave behind,
Prudes and dames that have been vastly kind —
Pray take my word!
Off off we go and tell them we're on duty,
Smoke a cigar, and seek for some new beauty.
Oh, vive l'amour, &c.