He wakes up screaming
He wakes up screaming
He wakes up
He wakes up in a cold sweat
He dreams he's going to get a letter in the post
Telling him he's been called up again
They're calling up the national guard
They'll send him back
Send him back
Back to Vietnam
Back to Vietnam
He's running in the jungle
He's running with a bayonet
With a machine gun
And he's wild on LSD
The enemy
He can't see them
But he knows they're there
He's aware
And all around
He hears gunfire
He's caught on fire
He's so frightened
He wakes up screaming
He wakes up screaming
He dreads the day
A letter in the post
Telling him they're calling back the national guard
They'll send him back
Send him back
Send him back
Back to Vietnam
They're bringing back conscription
They're going to give everyone over seventeen a gun
And the housewhife in the kitchen
All she can think of
Is what to give her husband for tea
But he won't be back
Do we have to go through it all again?
It's all the same: Vietnam, Korea
First World War, Argentina, Falkland Islands
Another war, what is it for?
Now he's in a home
For Vietnam refugees
He's frightened
He's in an institution
He's in a wheelchair
War is the last creative act
I thought we might of learned some lesson
Richard Nixon on Channel Eleven
I heard it first
Happy birthday, happy Christmas
Guns go bang bang
He wakes up screaming
He wakes up
He wakes up in a cold sweat
He dreams he's going to get a letter in the post
Telling him he's been called up again
They're calling up the national guard
They'll send him back
Send him back
Back to Vietnam
Back to Vietnam
He's running in the jungle
He's running with a bayonet
With a machine gun
And he's wild on LSD
The enemy
He can't see them
But he knows they're there
He's aware
And all around
He hears gunfire
He's caught on fire
He's so frightened
He wakes up screaming
He wakes up screaming
He dreads the day
A letter in the post
Telling him they're calling back the national guard
They'll send him back
Send him back
Send him back
Back to Vietnam
They're bringing back conscription
They're going to give everyone over seventeen a gun
And the housewhife in the kitchen
All she can think of
Is what to give her husband for tea
But he won't be back
Do we have to go through it all again?
It's all the same: Vietnam, Korea
First World War, Argentina, Falkland Islands
Another war, what is it for?
Now he's in a home
For Vietnam refugees
He's frightened
He's in an institution
He's in a wheelchair
War is the last creative act
I thought we might of learned some lesson
Richard Nixon on Channel Eleven
I heard it first
Happy birthday, happy Christmas
Guns go bang bang
inviata da Alessandro - 17/2/2010 - 13:24
×
![]()
Album "The Painted Word"