The Quartermaster Corps
It's the beer, beer, beer that makes you feel so queer
In the corps, in the corps.
It's the beer, beer, beer that makes you feel so queer
In the Quartermaster Corps.
chorus: Mine eyes are dim, I cannot see
I have not brought my specs with me
I have (hup!) not (ho!) brought my specs with me.
It's the brandy, brandy brandy that makes you feel so dandy etc.
It's the whiskey; frisky etc.
It's the rum; puts you on the bum etc.
It's the water; makes you think tou oughta etc.
It's the lack of sex that majes us nervous wrecks etc.
It's the cheese; brings you to your knees
It's the tea; but not for you and me
It's the rats; in bowlder hays and spats
Unknown - Quartermaster Corps Lyrics
Unknown - Quartermaster Corps Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
The Quartermaster Corps
It's the beer, beer, beer that makes you feel so queer
In the corps, in the corps.
It's the beer, beer, beer that makes you feel so queer
In the Quartermaster Corps.
chorus: Mine eyes are dim, I cannot see
I have not brought my specs with me
I have (hup!) not (ho!) brought my specs with me.
It's the brandy, brandy brandy that makes you feel so dandy etc.
It's the whiskey; frisky etc.
It's the rum; puts you on the bum etc.
It's the water; makes you think tou oughta etc.
It's the lack of sex that majes us nervous wrecks etc.
It's the cheese; brings you to your knees
It's the tea; but not for you and me
It's the rats; in bowlder hays and spats
It's the beer, beer, beer that makes you feel so queer
In the corps, in the corps.
It's the beer, beer, beer that makes you feel so queer
In the Quartermaster Corps.
chorus: Mine eyes are dim, I cannot see
I have not brought my specs with me
I have (hup!) not (ho!) brought my specs with me.
It's the brandy, brandy brandy that makes you feel so dandy etc.
It's the whiskey; frisky etc.
It's the rum; puts you on the bum etc.
It's the water; makes you think tou oughta etc.
It's the lack of sex that majes us nervous wrecks etc.
It's the cheese; brings you to your knees
It's the tea; but not for you and me
It's the rats; in bowlder hays and spats