John Jeffreys - Thirteen Pence a Day

The Queen she sent to look for me
The sergeant he did say
"Young man, a soldier will you be
For thirteen pence a day?"

For thirteen pence a day did I
Take off the things I wore
And I have marched to where I lie
And I shall march no more

My mouth is dry, my shirt is wet
My blood runs all away
So now I shall not die in debt
For thirteen pence a day

To-morrow after new young men
The sergeant he must see
For things will all be over then
Between the Queen and me

And I shall have to bate my price
For in the grave, they say
Is neither knowledge nor device
Nor thirteen pence a day