Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile! / music by Felix Powell written by George Asaf

VERSE 01: Private Perks is a funny little codger/With a smile a funny smile./Five feet none, he's an artful little dodger/With a smile a funny smile./Flush or broke he'll have his little joke,/He can't be supress'd/All the other fellows have to grin/When he gets this off his chest,/Hi!
VERSE 02: Private Perks went a marching into Flanders/With his smile his funny smile./He was lov'd by the privates and commanders/For his smile his funny smile./When a throng of Bosches came along/With a mighty swing,/Perks yell'd out, "This little bunch is mine!/Keep your heads down, boy and sing,/Hi!
VERSE 03: Private Perks he came back from Bosche shooting/With his smile his funny smile./Round his home he then set about recruiting/With his smile his funny smile./He told all his pals, the short, the tall,/What a time he'd had;/And as each enlisted like a man/Private Perks said Now my lad,/Hi!
CHORUS: Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag,/And smile, smile, smile,/While you've a lucifer to light your fag,/Smile, boys, that's the style./What's the use of worrying?/It never was worth while, so/Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag,/And smile, smile, smile.