There is a little haze in the morning air.
The almond smell of cyanide is everywhere,
And it's so quiet.
And the crying of the babies is no more.
Well it‘s just another day, just a little war…
There are some funny men, they look like men from Mars,
The brave technicians in experimental wars,
All in their gas-masks.
And they told the people here to hold their breath.
Well it's just another day, just a little death…
There is a roaring sound in the evening sky.
At forty thousand feet the heavy bombers fly,
And there is no place
For the children in the village square to hide.
Well it's just another day, just another town…
We have a master plan, the professor said,
Our germs and gas will mingle with our army's lead,
And we will free you
When the last Vietnamese is pacified.
Well it's just another day, just another lie…
Now there is not a sound on the jungle trail,
But in every tree an angry man is waiting now,
And then a twig snaps,
And the blood of the invader soaks the ground
Well it’s just another day, just outside of town…
The almond smell of cyanide is everywhere,
And it's so quiet.
And the crying of the babies is no more.
Well it‘s just another day, just a little war…
There are some funny men, they look like men from Mars,
The brave technicians in experimental wars,
All in their gas-masks.
And they told the people here to hold their breath.
Well it's just another day, just a little death…
There is a roaring sound in the evening sky.
At forty thousand feet the heavy bombers fly,
And there is no place
For the children in the village square to hide.
Well it's just another day, just another town…
We have a master plan, the professor said,
Our germs and gas will mingle with our army's lead,
And we will free you
When the last Vietnamese is pacified.
Well it's just another day, just another lie…
Now there is not a sound on the jungle trail,
But in every tree an angry man is waiting now,
And then a twig snaps,
And the blood of the invader soaks the ground
Well it’s just another day, just outside of town…
Contributed by Alessandro - 2010/3/16 - 09:20
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Words and music by Bill Frederick, student in chemistry and draft resister at the time of the Vietnam War.
Album “F.T.A.! Songs et the GI Resistance”, Paredon Records
Sung by Barbara Dane with active-duty GIs.
Recorded at Fort Hood, Texas, Fort Benning, Georgia and Fort Bragg, North Carolina.
Edited by Irwin Silber.
“The writer of this song is a draft resister, an advanced student in chemistry, and one of the first songwriters to express a genuine sensitivity to the situation of the Vietnamese in the late '60s. Most of us have had so much conditioning the other way that when I sing this song people are very conflicted about how to respond. GIs will clap rather self-consciously, and one room full of atomic-energy scientists couldn't clap at all. I wish we had a better-recorded version of such a good song, but since all of us who worked on the album are activists, we were all rushing off to other pursuits by the time we found out this was suffering from out-of-phase mikas and other troubles. But it's too good a song to leave off.”
(Nota introduttiva al brano dal libretto che accompagna l’album citato)