Peter Bellamy – Gunga Din chords

[Intro]
A   D

[Verse 1]
DYou may talk o' gin and beer
GWhen you're quartered safe out 'ere,
           D                             AAn' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;
    DBut when it comes to slaughter
         GYou will do your work on water,
           A                                     DAn' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.
       GNow in Injia's sunny clime,
  DI used to spend my time
D                                AAll a-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen,
   DOf all them blackfaced crew
    GThe finest man I knew
        A                        DWas our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
        G    G    GHe was “Din! Din! Din!
G           DYou limpin' lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din!
DHi! slippery hitherao!
       GWater, get it! Panee lao!
    A                             DYou squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.”

[Instrumental]
A   D

[Verse 2]
DThe uniform 'e wore
    GWas nothin' much before,
    D                               AAn' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind,
    DFor a piece o' twisty rag
    GAn' a goatskin water-bag
    A                                DWas all the field-equipment 'e could find.
         GWhen the sweatin' troop-train lay
     DIn a sidin' through the day,
D                                                AWhere the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl,
   DWe shouted “Harry By!”
     GTill our throats were bricky-dry,
        A                                      DThen we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all.
        G    G    GIt was “Din! Din! Din!
G    DYou 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been?
DYou put some juldee in it
GOr I'll marrow you this minute
       A                              DIf you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!”

[Verse 3]
D'E would dot an' carry one
     GTill the longest day was done;
       D                              AAn' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear.
      DIf we charged or broke or cut,
          GYou could bet your bloomin' nut,
        A                               D'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear.
         GWith 'is mussick on 'is back,
         D'E would skip with our attack,
D                                       AAn' he'd watch us till the bugles made “Retire”,
        DAn' for all 'is dirty 'ide
       G'E was white, clear white, inside
        A                              DWhen 'e went to tend the wounded under fire!
        G    G    GIt was “Din! Din! Din!”
G                DWith the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green.
DWhen the cartridges ran out,
          GYou could hear the front-files shout,
     A                          D“Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!”

[Instrumental]
A   D

[Verse 4]
DI shan't forgit the night
       GWhen I dropped be'ind the fight
       D                                     AWith a bullet where my belt-plate should 'a' been.
      DI was chokin' mad with thirst,
        GAn' the man that spied me first
        A                                 DWas our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din.
   G'E lifted up my 'ead,
       DAn' he plugged me where I bled,
D                                  AAn' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' water-green:
       DIt was crawlin' and it stunk,
       GBut of all the drinks I've drunk,
    A                              DI'm gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
        G    G    GIt was “Din! Din! Din!
G               D'Ere's a beggar with a bullet through 'is spleen;
     D'E's chawin' up the ground,
     G'E's kickin' all around:
    A                                DFor Gawd's sake git the water, Gunga Din!”

[Verse 5]
D'E carried me away
   GTo where a dooli lay,
      D                                  AAn' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean.
   D'E put me safe inside,
    GAn' just before 'e died,
    A                                    D“I 'ope you liked your drink”, sez Gunga Din.
        GSo I'll meet 'im later on
       DAt the place where 'e is gone--
      D                               AWhere it's always double drill and no canteen;
         D'E'll be squattin' on the coals
       GGivin' drink to poor damned souls,
         A                             DAn' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
     G    G    GYes, Din! Din! Din!
G       DYou Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
            DThough I've belted you and flayed you,
       GBy the livin' Gawd that made you,
         A                           DYou're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!