Us, and them.
And after all, we're only ordinary men. 
Me, and you. 
God only knows, it's not what we would choose to do.

Forward he cried from the rear, and the front rank died.
And the general sat and the lines on the map, moved from side to side.

Black and blue, and who knows which is which and who is who.
Up and down, and in the end it's only round and round, and round.

Haven't you heard it's a battle of words, the poster bearer cried. 
Listen son, said the man with the gun, there's room for you inside. 

"I mean, they're not gonna kill ya, so if you give 'em a quick short, sharp, shock, they won't do it again. Dig it? I mean he got off lightly, 'Cos I would've given him a thrashing - I only hit him once!
It was only a difference of opinion, but really...I mean good manners, don't cost nothing do they, eh?"

Down and out, it can't be helped cause there's a lot of it about. 
With, without, and who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about?

Out of the way, it's a busy day, I've got things on my mind. 
For the want of the price of tea and a slice, the old man died.