| Mick Softley | |
| Let me tell you the story of a soldier named Dan. | |
| Went out to fight the good fight in South Vietnam, | |
| Went out to fight for peace, liberty and all, | |
| Went out to fight for equality, hope, let's go, | |
| And the war drags on. | |
| Found himself involved in a sea of blood and bones, | |
| Millions without faces, without hope and without homes. | |
| And the guns they grew louder as they made dust out of bones | |
| That the flesh had long since left just as the people left their homes, | |
| And the war drags on. | |
| They're just there to try and make the people free, | |
| But the way that they're doing it, it don't seem like that to me. | |
| Just more blood-letting and misery and tears | |
| That this poor country's known for the last twenty years, | |
| And the war drags on. | |
| Last night poor Dan had a nightmare it seems. | |
| One kept occurring and re-occurring in his dream: | |
| Cities full of people burn and scream and shoutin' loud | |
| And right over head a great orange mushroom cloud. | |
| And there's no more war, | |
| for there's no more world, | |
| And the tears come streaming down. | |
| Yes, I lie crying on the ground. |