| Oh, I’m just a typical American boy
|
| From a typical American town
|
| I believe in God and Senator Dodd
|
| And a-keepin' old Castro down
|
| And when it came my time to serve
|
| I knew «better dead than red»
|
| But when I got to my old draft board, buddy, this is what I said:
|
| Sarge, I’m only eighteen, I got a ruptured spleen
|
| And I always carry a purse
|
| I got eyes like a bat
|
| And my feet are flat
|
| And my asthma’s getting worse
|
| Yes, think of my career, my sweetheart dear
|
| And my poor old invalid aunt
|
| Besides, I ain’t no fool, I’m a-goin' to school
|
| And I’m working in a defense plant
|
| I’ve got a dislocated disc and a wracked 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, 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
|
| Sarge, I’m only eighteen, I got a ruptured spleen
|
| And I always carry a purse
|
| I got eyes like a bat
|
| And my feet are flat
|
| And my asthma’s getting worse
|
| Yes, think of my career, my sweetheart dear
|
| And my poor old invalid aunt
|
| Besides, I ain’t no fool, I’m a-goin' to school
|
| And I’m working in a defence plant
|
| Ooh, I hate Chou En Lai, and I hope he dies
|
| 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!
|
| Kill me a thousand or so
|
| And if you ever get a war without blood and gore
|
| I’ll be the first to go
|
| Sarge, I’m only eighteen, I got a ruptured spleen
|
| And I always carry a purse
|
| I got eyes like a bat
|
| And my feet are flat
|
| And my asthma’s getting worse
|
| Yes, think of my career, my sweetheart dear
|
| And my poor old invalid aunt
|
| Besides, I ain’t no fool, I’m a-goin' to school
|
| And I’m working in a defense plant |