War made him a soldier, little Franky Mear
Peace left him a loser, the little bombradier.
Lines of worry appeared with age, unskilled hands that knew no trade
Spent his time in a picture(?) house, the little bombradier.
Franky drank his money, the little that he made
Told his woes to no man, friendless lonely days.
Then one day in the ABC, four small eyes gazed longingly
At the ice cream in the hand of the little bombradier.
Sunshine entered our Franky's days
Gone his sorrows his hopeless maze
His life was fun and his heart was full of joy
Two young children had changed his his aims,
He bought the toffees and played their games
He bought them presents with every coin he made.
Then two gentlemen called on him, asked him for his name
Why was he friends with the children, were they just a game
Leave them alone or we'll get sore, we've had blokes like you in this nation
before
The hand of authority said "no more" to the little bombradier.
Packed his bags, his heart in pain, wiped a tear and caught a train
Not to be seen in this town again, the little bombradier.