Oh Julie Claire was very fair, br Yet generous as well, br And many a lad of metal had br A saucy tale to tell br Of sultry squeeze beneath the trees br Or hugging in the hay . . . br Of love her share had Julie Claire br When life was lush and gay. br br And then the village wealth to pillage br Came the Teuton horde; br The haughty Huns with mighty guns br And clattering of sword. br And Julie Claire had honey hair br With eyes of soft azure, br So she became the favoured flame br Of the Kommandatur. br br But when at last the plague was past, br The bloody war well won, br We clipped the locks of every dox br Who dallied with the Hun. br Each wench with scorn was duly shorn; br Our Marie the shears would weld, br And Julie's head with ringlets shed br Was like a turnip peeled. br br But of these days of wanton ways br No more the village talks, br For Julie Claire has wed the Maire br Who clipped her golden locks . . . br Nay, do not try to me I br Must suffer for my sins, br For all agree the Marie must be br The father of her twins.