Where are the lads of the village tonight?

AKA The boys of the village
First Published 1914
Writer/composer Weston/Datewski Roud RN25462

Music Hall Performers George Lashwood
Folk performances Source Singers
Bond, Frank 1965 England: Hampshire
Goode, Archer 1974 England: Gloucestershire
Modern performances

The West End's not the same tonight
The West End's not the same tonight
The lights aren't shining quite so bright
That's what I hear the little ladies say
To gave a glad eye is a crime, for it's a sad eye all the time
The dear lads of the village are away
The barmaid at you tries to wink
But with a tear-drop has to blink
And won't be ashamed to tell you why
Tho' the mob their flags are waving
Singing jingo songs and bragging
All the girls will ask each other with a sigh.

Where are the lads of the village tonight?
Where are the nuts we knew?
In Piccadilly? In Leicester square? No, not there
No, not there. They're taking a trip on the Continong
With their rifles and their bayonettes bright
Facing danger gladly where they're needed badly
That's where they are tonight.

No, Algie isn't on the moors
And bringing pheasants down by scores
He's shooting quite a different kind of bird
And Gussie isn't with the hounds
He's now on foreign hunting grounds
He's hunting German foxes so I've heard
And Percy tho' at sea a lot
Is not at Cowes upon his yacht
When last our Percy boy was seen
He was back as master gunner on a twenty thousand tonner
Dropping shells upon a German submarine

Where are the lads of the village tonight?
Where are the nuts we knew?
In Piccadilly? In Leicester square? No, not there
No, not there. They're taking a trip on the Continong
With their rifles and their bayonettes bright
Gone to teach the vulture murder is not a culture
That's where they are tonight.'

We miss those gay dare-devil boys
The student lads, all fun and noise
But Guys and St Bathelomew's know well
That in the trenches kneeling low
They tend the wounded though they know
The Red Croos Flag's a mark for German shell
But all the boys are doing grand
For King and Home and Motherland
And when at last they've turned the tide
Tho' Berlin's the place they'll rush for
They'll do nothing we need blush for
No, they'll play the game, and we shall say with pride.

Where are the lads of the village tonight?
Where are the nuts we knew
In Piccadilly? In Leicester square? No, not there
No, not there. They're taking a trip on the Continong
With their rifles and their bayonettes bright
Where the Kaiser humbled, knows his power has crumbled
That's where they are tonight.'

RP Weston perhaps one of the most prolific songwriters of the Edwardian Halls, wrote this song for George Lashwood. To me this does not seem to be a straightforward, jingoistic songs of the halls – perhaps it’s just straightforward sentimentalism, but this song seems to reflect a regret for the youth lost to conflict…..

George Lashwood (1863 – 1942), sometimes billed as the Beau Brummell of the Halls, was perhaps the last of the Lions Comiques. Dressed as a Regency dandy he would sing patriotic, sentimental and comic songs. He fell out of fashion after the First World War, but had put aside enough money to live very comfortably.

Sources: