Sunday morning, rain is falling
Steal some covers, share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mold that I am in
No longer can I walk these paths
For they have changed
I must be on, the sun is gone
And I think it’s gonna rain
Sunday will never be the same
I’ve lost my Sunday-song
He’ll not be back again
And will ye no’ come back again?
Will ye no’ come back again?
Better lo’ed ye canna be
Will ye no’ come back again?
Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey, won’t you come home?
She moans the whole day long
I’ll do the cooking, honey, I’ll pay the rent
I know I done you wrong
Stray cat sittin’ on a wooden fence
Don’t have enough dough to pay the rent
Got a shoe thrown at me by a mean old man
Get my dinner from a garbage can
I come home last Friday, talk to the woman that I lost my job
She says don’t confront me
An’ so I have my rent next Friday
An’ next Friday come, I didn’t have the rent
An’ out the door I went
So I’m on down the highway,
I’m tired of being alone,
And getting stoned to pass the time.
I’m comin’ home, I’ve been away too long,
Been away so long, I’m coming home.
So long, it’s been good to know you
There’s a mighty big war that’s got to be won
And we’ll get back together again.
The crowd was packed by the railroad track
People was yelling and patting my back
And while the engineer rung his bell
I hugged all the mothers and kissed all the gals,
Singing:
So long, it’s been good to know you
So long, it’s been good to know you
So long, it’s been good to know you
There’s a mighty big war that’s got to be won
And we’ll get back together again
And after the wars are over
And the body count is finally filed
I hope that the Man discovers
What’s driving the people wild
Military madness is killing your country
So much sadness, between you and me
War, War, War, War, War, War
So long, mom,
I’m off to drop the bomb,
So don’t wait up for me.
But while you swelter
Down there in your shelter,
You can see me
On your tv.
War!
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothing!
The eastern world, it is explodin’,
Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’,
You’re old enough to kill, but not for votin’,
You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’,
And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin’,
But you tell me, over and over and over again, my friend,
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.
Crazy people walkin’ round with blood in their eyes
And all she wants to do is dance, dance, dance
Wild-eyed pistols wavers who ain’t afraid to die
And all she wants to do is
And all she wants to do is dance
Tin soldiers and Nixon coming
We’re finally on our own
This summer I hear the drumming
4 dead in Ohio
Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing,
Come the judgment day,
On the bloody morning after–
One tin soldier rides away.
Buffalo Soldier, Dreadlock Rasta
There was a Buffalo Soldier
In the heart of America
Stolen from Africa, brought to America
Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival
I saw cotton and I saw black.
Tall white mansions and little shacks.
Southern man, when will you pay them back?
From this day on I own my father’s gun,
We dug his shallow grave beneath the sun.
I laid his broken body down below the Southern land,
It wouldn’t do to bury him where any Yankee stands.
Like my father before me, I will work the land
Like my brother above me, who took a rebel stand
He was just eighteen, proud and brave, but a Yankee laid him in his grave
I swear by the mud below my feet
You can’t raise a Caine back up when he’s in defeat
The night they drove old Dixie down, and the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down, and all the people were singin’, they went
Na, la, na, la, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
Dixie Lily, chugging like a grand old lady,
Paddles hitting home in the noonday sun,
Plowing through the water, with your whistles blowing,
Down from Louisiana on the Vicksburg run.