We are the D-Day Dodgers,
Out in Italy,
Always on the vino,
Always on the spree.
Eighth Army skivers and their tanks,
We live in Rome among the Yanks
We are the D-Day Dodgers,
Out in Italy.
We landed at Salerno,
A holiday with pay.
Jerry brought his bands out
To cheer us on his way,
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers,
The lads that D-Day dodged
Palermo and Cassino
Were taken in our stride,
We didn't go to fight there,
We just went for the ride.
Anzio and Sangro are just names,
We only went to look for dames,
For we are the D-Day Dodgers,
In sunny Italy.
On our way to Florence,
We had a lovely time,
We drove a bus from Rimini,
Right through the Gothic Line,
Then to Bologna we did go,
And went bathing in the Po,
We are the D-Day Dodgers,
Out in Italy.
We hear the boys in France
Are going home on leave,
After six months service
A shame they're not relieved.
We're told to carry on a few more years,
Because our wives don't shed no tears.
We are the D-Day Dodgers,
Out in sunny Italy.
Once we had a "blue light"
That we were going home,
Back to dear old Blighty,
Never more to roam.
Then someone whispered: 'In France we'll fight,'
We said: 'Fuck that, we'll just sit tight,'
We are the D-Day Dodgers,
Way out in Italy.
Dear Lady Astor,
You think you know a lot,
Standing on a platform
And talking tommy rot.
England's sweetheart and her pride,
We think your mouth is much too wide
That's from the D-Day Dodgers,
In sunny Italy.
Look around the hillsides,
Through the mist and rain,
See the scattered crosses,
Some that bear no name.
Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone,
The lads beneath, them slumber on.
They are the D-Day Dodgers,
Who'll stay in Italy.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, Out in Italy, Always on the vino, Always on the spree. Eighth Army skivers and their tanks, We live in Rome among the Yanks We are the D-Day Dodgers, Out in Italy.
We landed at Salerno, A holiday with pay. Jerry brought his bands out To cheer us on his way, Showed us the sights and gave us tea, We all sang songs, the beer was free. For we are the D-Day Dodgers, The lads that D-Day dodged
Palermo and Cassino Were taken in our stride, We didn't go to fight there, We just went for the ride. Anzio and Sangro are just names, We only went to look for dames, For we are the D-Day Dodgers, In sunny Italy.
On our way to Florence, We had a lovely time, We drove a bus from Rimini, Right through the Gothic Line, Then to Bologna we did go, And went bathing in the Po, We are the D-Day Dodgers, Out in Italy.
We hear the boys in France Are going home on leave, After six months service A shame they're not relieved. We're told to carry on a few more years, Because our wives don't shed no tears. We are the D-Day Dodgers, Out in sunny Italy.
Once we had a "blue light" That we were going home, Back to dear old Blighty, Never more to roam. Then someone whispered: 'In France we'll fight,' We said: 'Fuck that, we'll just sit tight,' We are the D-Day Dodgers, Way out in Italy.
Dear Lady Astor, You think you know a lot, Standing on a platform And talking tommy rot. England's sweetheart and her pride, We think your mouth is much too wide That's from the D-Day Dodgers, In sunny Italy.
Look around the hillsides, Through the mist and rain, See the scattered crosses, Some that bear no name. Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone, The lads beneath, them slumber on. They are the D-Day Dodgers, Who'll stay in Italy.