I camped one night in an empty hut on the side of a lonely hill.
I didn’t go much on empty huts, but the night was awful chill.
So I boiled me billy and had me tea and seen that the door was shut.
Then I went to bed in am empty bunk by the side of the old slab shed.

It must have been about twelve o’clock – I was feeling cosy and warm –
When at the foot of me bunk I sees a horrible ghostly form
It seemed in shape to be half an ape with a head like a chimpanzee
But wot the hell was it doin there, and wot did it want with me?

You may say if you please that I had DTs or call me a crimson liar,
But I wish you had seen it as plain as me, with it’s eyes like coals of fire.
Then it gave a moan and a horrible groan that curdled me blood with fear,
And ‘There’s only the two of us here,’ it ses. ‘There’s only the two of us here!’

I kept one eye on the old hut door and one on the awful brute;
I only wanted to dress meself and get to the door and scoot.
But I couldn’t find where I’d left me boots so I hadn’t a chance to clear
And, ‘There’s only the two of us here,’ it moans. ‘There’s only the two of us here!’
I hadn’t a thing to defend meself, not even a stick or stone,
And ‘There’s only the two of here!’ It ses again with a horrible groan.
I thought I’d better make some reply, though I reckoned me end was near,
‘By the Holy Smoke, when I find me boots, there’ll be only one of us here.’
I get me hands on me number tens and out through the door I scoots,
And I lit the whole of the ridges up with the sparks from me blucher boots.
So I’ve never slept in a hut since then, and I tremble and shake with fear
When I think of the horrible form wot moaned, ‘There’s only the two of us here!’