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Draft Dodger Rag | |
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Author | Phil Ochs |
First published | 1965 |
Type | Song |
Lyrics
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
Chorus:
Sarge, I'm only eighteen, I got a ruptured spleen
And I always carry a purse
I've got eyes like a bat and my feet are flat
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
Chorus
Ooh, I hate Zhou Enlai 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
Kill me a thousand or so
And if you ever get a war without blood and gore
I'll be the first to go