THE END OF THE LINE
In line for Mess, In line for Beer, In line to use up half the year, Make up your mind to stand all day, The line will never break away, We wait for pay, > > We wait for mail, We wait and think our food grows stale, The moon rides up and the sun falls down, The lines grow longer, trees turn brown. Sweat out your leave, Sweat out the breaks, You’ll never know what time it takes. When there’s a day you’re not in line, You may be nearing eighty-nine.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WWFLAK19430625.2.16
Bibliographic details
Flak, Volume 1, Issue 8, 25 June 1943, Page 5
Word Count
95THE END OF THE LINE Flak, Volume 1, Issue 8, 25 June 1943, Page 5
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