Draft Dodger Rag Lyrics
| Song | Draft Dodger Rag |
| Artist | Phil Ochs |
| Album | I Ain't Marching Anymore |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Ochs | |
| pre> | |
| G g#/a | |
| I'm just a typical american boy from a typical american town | |
| D7 g | |
| I believe in god and senator dodd and keeping old castro down | |
| G# a | |
| And when it came my time to serve i knew better dead than red | |
| D7 g | |
| But when i got to my old draft board, buddy, this is what i said: | |
| G | |
| Sarge, i'm only eighteen, i got a ruptured spleen | |
| G#/a | |
| And i always carry a purse | |
| D7 | |
| I got eyes like a bat, my feet are flat, and my asthma's | |
| G | |
| Getting worse | |
| G# a | |
| O think of my career, my sweetheart dear, and my poor old | |
| Invalid aunt | |
| D7 | |
| Besides, i ain't no fool, i'm a goin' to school, and i'm | |
| G | |
| Working in a defense plant | |
| I've got a dislocated disc and a racked up back | |
| I'm allergic to flowers and bugs | |
| And when the bombshell hits, i get epileptic fits | |
| And i'm addicted to a thousand drugs | |
| I got the weakness woes, and i can't touch my toes | |
| I can hardly reach my knees | |
| And if the enemy came close to me | |
| I'd probably start to sneeze | |
| (chorus) | |
| I hate chou en lai, and i hope he dies, | |
| But one thing you gotta see | |
| That someone's gotta go over there | |
| And that someone isn't me | |
| So i wish you well, sarge, give 'em hell | |
| Yeah, kill me a thousand or so | |
| And if you ever get a war without blood and gore | |
| Well i'll be the first to go | |
| (chorus) | |
| /pre> |
| zuo ci : Ochs | |
| pre | |
| G g a | |
| I' m just a typical american boy from a typical american town | |
| D7 g | |
| I believe in god and senator dodd and keeping old castro down | |
| G a | |
| And when it came my time to serve i knew better dead than red | |
| D7 g | |
| But when i got to my old draft board, buddy, this is what i said: | |
| G | |
| Sarge, i' m only eighteen, i got a ruptured spleen | |
| G a | |
| And i always carry a purse | |
| D7 | |
| I got eyes like a bat, my feet are flat, and my asthma' s | |
| G | |
| Getting worse | |
| G a | |
| O think of my career, my sweetheart dear, and my poor old | |
| Invalid aunt | |
| D7 | |
| Besides, i ain' t no fool, i' m a goin' to school, and i' m | |
| G | |
| Working in a defense plant | |
| I' ve got a dislocated disc and a racked up back | |
| I' m allergic to flowers and bugs | |
| And when the bombshell hits, i get epileptic fits | |
| And i' m addicted to a thousand drugs | |
| I got the weakness woes, and i can' t touch my toes | |
| I can hardly reach my knees | |
| And if the enemy came close to me | |
| I' d probably start to sneeze | |
| chorus | |
| I hate chou en lai, and i hope he dies, | |
| But one thing you gotta see | |
| That someone' s gotta go over there | |
| And that someone isn' t me | |
| So i wish you well, sarge, give ' em hell | |
| Yeah, kill me a thousand or so | |
| And if you ever get a war without blood and gore | |
| Well i' ll be the first to go | |
| chorus | |
| pre |
| zuò cí : Ochs | |
| pre | |
| G g a | |
| I' m just a typical american boy from a typical american town | |
| D7 g | |
| I believe in god and senator dodd and keeping old castro down | |
| G a | |
| And when it came my time to serve i knew better dead than red | |
| D7 g | |
| But when i got to my old draft board, buddy, this is what i said: | |
| G | |
| Sarge, i' m only eighteen, i got a ruptured spleen | |
| G a | |
| And i always carry a purse | |
| D7 | |
| I got eyes like a bat, my feet are flat, and my asthma' s | |
| G | |
| Getting worse | |
| G a | |
| O think of my career, my sweetheart dear, and my poor old | |
| Invalid aunt | |
| D7 | |
| Besides, i ain' t no fool, i' m a goin' to school, and i' m | |
| G | |
| Working in a defense plant | |
| I' ve got a dislocated disc and a racked up back | |
| I' m allergic to flowers and bugs | |
| And when the bombshell hits, i get epileptic fits | |
| And i' m addicted to a thousand drugs | |
| I got the weakness woes, and i can' t touch my toes | |
| I can hardly reach my knees | |
| And if the enemy came close to me | |
| I' d probably start to sneeze | |
| chorus | |
| I hate chou en lai, and i hope he dies, | |
| But one thing you gotta see | |
| That someone' s gotta go over there | |
| And that someone isn' t me | |
| So i wish you well, sarge, give ' em hell | |
| Yeah, kill me a thousand or so | |
| And if you ever get a war without blood and gore | |
| Well i' ll be the first to go | |
| chorus | |
| pre |
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