A Japanese benjo's a wonderful place
You climb a steep step then right about face
You must straddle a hole cut in the floor
You undo your buttons (seven or more)
Then when you're ready down you squat
And dump your load, a kind of trial shot
The idea seems with this eastern nation
To get rid of the lot without decoration
Of floors, walls or windows or any such spots
But some of the troops are most God-awful shots
I think the chief reason for this seems to be
That when a man suffers at all from "Gari"
The upstep is apt to loosen his freight
And when the door shuts it's a trifle too late
To fiddle with buttons and get down his pants
And get himself set in the orthodox stance
So he just barges in in a hell of a hurry
And everything's done in a state of a flurry
And the three or four colored jobs there that we see
Are conclusive evidence plain as can be
That we as a nation were not built to squat
On our bunkers just like some damned Hotentot
