Drink a cup o' courage, boys,
drink clear to the bottom;
fight for some fine futures boys,
and cuss those swells that's got 'em.
Kick them fakers, Sergeant Major!
At dawn we'll rise and run and die
and be forgotten shortly
by lofty pricks with walking sticks
who like their cricket sporting.
55 for Toads. 55 words including the title.