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Phonograph
Vintage Records (otherwise known as Phonographs) are a musical device commonly used in the early 20th Century among the aristocratic and common class. The music was a moral necessity, to many officers and troops, to remain happy and sane during the brutality of the war and often started by one or more soldiers who would sing the opening lines and establish the beat. The chorus would join after others joined.

During his time in the army, Albaric Moreau can hear these men singing these songs either in trenches or in his bases on his own Phonograph, which mimics the Victor-styled phonograph. These songs would only be accessible once he found the original record or phonograph playing.

Known recordsEdit

If you want to find the colonel,
I know where he is, I know where he is, I know where he is.
If you want to find the colonel,
I know where he is,
He's home again on seven days leave,
I saw him, I saw him,
Home again on seven days leave,
I saw him,
Home again on seven days leave,

If you want to find the captain,
I know where he is, I know where he is, I know where he is.
If you want to find the captain,
I know where he is,
Pinning some more medals on his chest,
I saw him, I saw him,
Pinning some more medals on his chest,
I saw him,
Pinning some more medals on his chest.

If you want to find the sergeant-major,
I know where he is, I know where he is, I know where he is.
If you want to find the sergeant-major,
I know where he is,
He's drunk up on the cookhouse floor,
I saw him, I saw him,
Drunk up on the cookhouse floor,
I saw him,
Drunk up on the cookhouse floor.

If you want to find the quartermaster,
I know where he is, I know where he is, I know where he is.
If you want to find the quartermaster,
I know where he is,
He's boozing up the company rum,
I saw him, I saw him,
Boozing up the company rum,
I saw him,
Boozing up the company rum.

If you want to find the old battlion,
I know where they are, I know where they are, I know where they are.
If you want to find the old battlion,
I know where they are,
They're hanging from the old barbed wire,
I saw them, I saw them,
Hanging from the old barbed wire,
I saw them,
Hanging from the old barbed wire.

Oh, they put me in the army and they handed me a pack,
They took away my nice new clothes and dolled me up in kack;
They marched me twenty miles a day to fit me for the war,
I didn't mind the first nine-teen but the last one made me sore:

(Chorus)
Oh, it's not the pack that you carry on your back,
Nor the Enfield on your shoulder,
Nor the five inch crust of blood-covered dust
That makes you feel your limbs are growing older,
And it's not the hike on the hard turnpike,
That wipes a - way your smile,
Nor the socks of sister's that raise the blooming blisters,
It's the last long mile.

Some day they’ll send us over and they’ll put us in a trench,
Takin’ pot shots at the Firt-zes with the Tom-mies and the French,
And some day we’ll be marching through a town across the Rhine,
And then you bet we’ll all forget these mournful words of mine:

(Chorus)

(Chorus Again)

Up to mighty London
Came an Irishman one day.
As the streets are paved with gold
Sure, everyone was gay,
Singing songs of Piccadilly,
Strand and Leicester Square,
Till Paddy got excited,
Then he shouted to them there:

(Chorus)
It's a long way to Tipperary,
It's a long way to go.
It's a long way to Tipperary
To the sweetest girl I know!
Goodbye, Piccadilly,
Farewell, Leicester Square!
It's a long long way to Tipperary,
But my heart's right there.

(Repeat)

Paddy wrote a letter
To his Irish Molly-O,
Saying, "Should you not receive it,
Write and let me know!"
"If I make mistakes in spelling,
Molly, dear," said he,
"Remember, it's the pen that's bad,
Don't lay the blame on me!

(Chorus)

But my heart's right there.
Molly wrote a neat reply
To Irish Paddy-O,
Saying "Mike Maloney
Wants to marry me, and so
Leave the Strand and Piccadilly
Or you'll be to blame,
For love has fairly drove me silly:
Hoping you're the same!"

(Chorus)

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