Joly's a hypochondriac.
He likes dramatics, and to yak:
"Last night I had a heart attack,
Fell down the stairs and broke my back.
Dear me! My tongue is turning black!
Quick, Grantaire, fetch my medic's sack!"
As Joly wheezed and coughed and hacked,
Enjolras whacked him on the back.
"Stop whining, Joly, you're much too slack.
Comrades, tonight is the attack!"
"I'm deathly ill, and that's a fact!
Grantaire, give me a Tick-Tac."

Suddenly the sky turned black,
Men shrieked like banshees, rifles cracked,
Bullets whizzed and bay'nets hacked.
Outside the students built a stack
Of spare parts, carts, and such mickmac.
\They cried: "this fort you'll never sack!"
As cannon bursts rained down their flak
The students braved a counterattack.
But from the fog and smoke and black
Jolllly, Enjy, and Grantaire have not come back.