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


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