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Oh, I marched to the battle of New Orleans, |
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At the end of the early British wars. |
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The young land started growing, |
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The young blood started flowing. |
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But I ain't a-marching anymore! |
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Oh I killed my share of Injuns in a thousand different fights, |
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I was there at the Little Big Horn. |
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I heard many men a-lying, |
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I saw many more a-dying. |
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But I ain't a-marching anymore! |
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It's always the old to lead us to the wars, |
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Always the young to fall. |
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Now look at what we've won with a saber and a gun. |
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Tell me is it worth it all? |
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For I stole California from the Mexican land, |
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Fought in the bloody Civil War. |
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Yes, I even killed my brothers, |
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And so many others. |
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But I ain't a-marching anymore! |
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For I marched to the battle of the German trench, |
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In a war that was bound to end all wars. |
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Oh I must have killed a million men, |
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And now they want me back again. |
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But I ain't a-marching anymore! |
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It's always the old to lead us to the wars, |
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Always the young to fall. |
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Now look at what we've won with a saber and a gun. |
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Tell me is it worth it all? |
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For I flew the final mission in the Japanese sky, |
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Set off the mighty mushroom roar. |
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But I saw the cities burnin', |
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And I knew that I was learnin', |
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That I ain't a-marching anymore! |
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Now the labor leader's screamin' when they closed the missile plant, |
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United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore. |
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Call it peace or call it treason, |
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Call it love or call it reason. |
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But I ain't a-marching anymore! |
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I ain't a-marching anymore! |
