human
In khaki dight my juniors fight-- I wish that I could too; But since the land's in need of hands There's work for me to do; Though you call me a 'swell,' I would labour well-- I'm aware it's not pure joy-- To plough and sow for PROTH-ER-O And be a farmer's boy, And be a farmer's boy.
gpt
I be mortal loth, But the farm 'tis goin' back, And I do declare as I can't a-bear Any farming hands to lack; So if you've got grit and be middlin' fit An'll larn to cry, 'Ut hoy!' And to plough and sow for PROTH-ER-O, You shall be a farmer's boy, You shall be a farmer's boy.