On to the beach and up to the hill,
The Marines are coming, they rush with a will.
A shot is fired, one enemy gone;
A hand is waved, “Come on! Come on!”
Another shot and a bad one dead;
The Marines are coming, they fan and spread;
A rat-tat-tat from a nest, the foe!
But one grenade, a perfect throw,
And bye-bye birdie! “Now to the top!
Fire, fire and fire, and don’t stop!”
The enemy runs, is in retreat;
So good to see their flying feet!
“Now plant the flag; yes, right here!
Show the world we have no fear!”
The Marines were coming; they came,
Planted the flag of freedom’s flame!