by Robert A. Hall
When the beer, it flows like water,
And the talk, it turns to war,
Then we speak of absent comrades
And the Honor of our Corps.
Of the fights in distant places ,
And the friends who are no more,
Dying faithful to the nation ,
And the Honor of our Corps.
Though our bones are growing brittle,
And our eyes are growing poor,
Still our hearts are young and valiant ,
For the Honor of our Corps.
Should the Eagle, Globe and Anchor ,
Call us to the field once more,
We would muster at the summons ,
For the Honor of our Corps.
When the years have told our story,
And we close the final door,
We will pass to you for keeping
Bright the Honor of our Corps.
Will you take the awesome burden?
Will you face the fire of war?
Will you proudly bear the title
For the Honor of our Corps?
Fix Bayonets! 