This is the G.I. Jive,
Man alive!
It starts with the bugler
Blowin' reveille over your head
When you arrive.
Jack, that's the G.I. Jive!
Root-tee-tee-toot!
Jump in your suit.
Make a salute--voot!

After you wash and dress,
More or less,
You go get your breakfast
In a beautiful little café
They call a mess.
Jack, when you convalesce,
Out of your seat,
Into the street,
Make with the feet--reet!

If you're a P. V. T. your duty
Is to salute the L-I-E-U-T;
But if you brush the L-I-E-U-T,
The M.P. makes you K.P. on the Q.T.

This is the G.I. Jive,
Man alive,
They give you a private tank,
That features a little device
Called fluid drive.
Jack, after you revive,
Chunk all your junk,
Back in the trunk,
Fall on your bunk--clunk.

Soon you're countin' Jeeps,
But before you count to five,
Seems you're right back diggin' that
G.I. Jive.