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This Is the Army, Mister Jones

This song is by Mel Tormé.

A bunch of frightened rookies were listening 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.

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