Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Iron Man, artist - Tom Paxton. Album song The Things I Notice Now, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 07.02.2008
Record label: Elektra, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
The Iron Man |
The orders came, the midnight rain |
Was driving down the window pane |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle |
Showed them green and new to battle |
Out on the road, the mud knee-high |
The tortured trucks were slithering by |
Toward the ruptured, shattered sky |
They strove. |
It hardly mattered why |
We find our hero in the mud |
We guess the fever in his blood |
We try, as he, to laugh at this |
The Iron Man whom bullets |
He’s right, the song has just begun |
We’d never kill a man so young |
He’s right, the song has just begun |
We’d never kill a man so young |
The sergeant, how they loathed his guts |
He led them down the waggon ruts |
One truck is stalled, the drivers curse |
It’s either ambulance or hearse |
The air grows foul, the heavy stench |
Is seeping from the ancient trench |
He takes his place and laughs at this |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss |
He’s right, no matter how they try |
The song’s too young for him to die |
He’s right, no matter how they try |
The song’s too young for him to die |
The orders came, the midnight rain |
Was driving down the window pane |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle |
Showed them green and new to battle |
Winter came early to the house on the hill, frost, wind and snow |
The builders looked at its unfinished frame, then turned to go |
A small foundation, a pile of sand, a rusty hammer in a cold, cold hand |
It wasn’t a big house that they planned, but winter came early and winter came |
hard |
Winter was death to the house on the hill, frost, wind and snow |
Warped its timbers and cracked the foundations, then turned to go |
The sketch was crumpled in a cold, cold hand. |
The hammer buried in the pile of |
sand |
The builders' thoughts were of virgin land when winter came early and winter |
came hard |
Spring was puzzled by the house on the hill, last patch of snow |
Gave it flowers and climbing vines, then turned to go |
Small boys played on the pile of sand, plastic weapons in their eager hands |
It wasn’t a big house that they planned, but winter came early and winter came |
hard |
The young lieutenant, new to war |
Is sick upon the trench’s floor |
The sergeant, how they cursed his head |
Is suddenly quite cold and dead |
The deafening explosions cease |
The calm a cruel burlesque of peace |
The whistle blows, the charge is made |
The Iron Man is unafraid |
He’s right, he’s young and brave and strong |
Just the kind to fill a song |
He’s right, he’s young and brave and strong |
Just the kind to fill a song |
The orders came, the midnight rain |
Was driving down the window pane |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle |
Showed them green and new to battle |
Frost on the blankets of the strong boys' room |
Heat for the sissies, for the prep-school pansies |
Ice cold showers for the cool platoon |
Once a month a card to mamma |
Wipe that smile off and shine your brass |
Grab your ankles and I’ll give you twenty |
Drop that rifle and I’ll have your ass |
Once a month a card to mamma |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle’s sleeping |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping |
Someone is weeping. |
I’ll be all right |
Goodnight. |
Goodnight |
Town girls love it in the picture shows |
Save the dances for the home-town ladies |
Save five dollars for the one who knows |
Once a month a card to mamma |
Grab your ankles for the old cadets |
Drop your trousers and you’ll get what’s coming |
Is there more to this than you’re quite sure of? |
Put it in a card to mamma |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle’s sleeping |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping |
Someone is weeping. |
I’ll be all right |
Goodnight, goodnight! |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle’s sleeping |
The whistle blows. |
The charge is made |
The Iron Man is unafraid |
The young lieutenant screams out loud |
The bullets hum like a startled crowd |
The young lieutenant screams and falls |
The Iron Man runs up the walls |
And blows the enemy a kiss |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss |
He’s right, the man whom bullets miss |
Is meant for something more than this |
He’s right, the man whom bullets miss |
Is meant for something more than this |
The orders came, the midnight rain |
Was driving down the window pane |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle |
Showed them green and new to battle |
Angie, from where I stand |
The water breaks on the spit of sand |
How does it survive? |
Angie, for all I know |
The sand is tired and ready to go |
It’s less than alive |
But you, so ready to leave. |
The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall |
Angie, so ready to fly. |
Is there time to ask why? |
Is there no time at all? |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? |
Angie, If Angie’s your name! |
Angie, from where I stand |
Your smile is so discretely planned |
I’m not sure it’s there |
Angie, for all I know |
You’ll notice me, you’ll turn and go |
You won’t even care |
That’s you, so ready to leave. |
The first trembling leaf to break loose in the |
Fall |
Angie, so ready to fly. |
Is there time to ask why? |
Is there no time at all? |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? |
Angie, If Angie’s your name! |
Angie, I was getting along |
Nothing quite right, but nothing too wrong |
I didn’t know you existed |
I ran my life like a safe machine |
Lost myself in a safe routine |
But now it’s all twisted |
With my hand on the knife |
For the rest of my life |
Angie, from where I stand |
You rise and wave an ungloved hand |
You smile in the sun |
Angie, you smile for him |
He calls to you. |
The light is dim |
You break into a run |
And you’re gone. |
So ready to leave. |
The first trembling leaf to break loose in |
the Fall |
Angie, so ready to fly. |
Is there time to ask why? |
Is there no time at all? |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? |
Angie, If Angie’s your name! |
The battered fort is ours again |
It only cost ten-thousand men |
And when a young lieutenant dies |
Some survivor has to rise |
So like a humble prayer of thanks |
The Iron Man goes up the ranks |
The man whom bullets miss goes far |
He wins a kiss and wears a star |
And he’s right — a man who lives through that |
Deserves a star upon his hat |
He’s right — a man who lives through that |
Deserves a star upon his hat |
And now the nation cheers his name |
The politicians play his game |
He’s coaxed and shrewdly follows fate |
Until he’s leader of the State |
The peace grows dull, the pace too slow |
At last he finds convenient foe |
The Congress balks, the galleries hiss |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss |
But he’s right, the man whom bullets miss |
Is meant for something more than this |
He’s right, the Generals pat their guns |
And Congress turns and Congress runs |
He’s right, the nation shouts its thanks |
The young men run to join the ranks |
He’s right, his name is in their blood |
While huddling in some foreign mud |
The orders came, the midnight rain |
Was driving down the window pane |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle |
Showed them green and new to battle |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle’s sleeping |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping |
Someone is weeping, I’ll be all right |
Goodnight, goodnight! |