There's dirty work to be done in the army
And it's not much fun
It's the kind of work that's done
Without the aid of a gun
The boys who work with the cooks in the kitchen
Holler out for peace
For they have to do the dirty work
And they're called the Kitchen Police
Poor little me
I'm a K.P.
I scrub the mess hall
Upon bended knee
Against my wishes
I wash the dishes
To make this wide world safe for Democracy
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