Gripe....Gripe.....Gripe....Gripe....Sitting on my G.I. bed My G.I. hat upon my head, My G.I. pants, my G.I. shoes, I wish they'd give us G.I. booze. G.I. razor and G.I. comb, G.I. I wish that I was home. They issue everything you need, Paper to write on, books to read. Your belt, your socks, your G.I. tie, It's for free -- Nothing to buy. They issue food and make us grow. G.I'd like a long furlough. You eat your food from G.I. plates, Buy all you want at G.I. rates. It's G.I. Joe and G.I. Mack, It's G.I. work that breaks your back. Everything is Government Issue, G.I. wish that I could kiss you.
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