Pete Seeger - Broadside Ballads Vol. 2 [compilation] (1963) by Pete Seeger (보컬) on maniadb.com

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.



And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.



And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.



And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

Oh Sergeant I'm a draftee and I've just arrived in camp.
I've come to wear the uniform and join the martial tramp.
And I want to do my duty, but one thing I do implore
You must give me lessons, sergeant, for I've never killed before.

To do my job obediently is my only desire.
To learn my weapon thoroughly and how to aim and fire.
To learn to kill the enemy and then to slaughter more,
I'll need instruction, sergeant, for I've never killed before.

Now there are several lessons that I haven't mastered yet.
I haven't got the hang of how to use the bayonet.
If he doesn't die at once am I to stick him with it more?
Oh, I hope you will be patient, for I've never killed before.

Oh, there are rumors in the camp about our enemy.
They say that when you see him he looks just like you and me.
But you deny it, Sergeant, and you are a man of war,
So you must give me lessons, for I've never killed before.

The hand grenade is something that I just don't understand.
You've got to throw it quickly or you're apt to lose your hand.
Does it blow a man to pieces with it's wicked, muffled roar?
Oh, I've got so much to learn because I've never killed before.

Oh, I want to thank you, Sergeant, for the help you've been to me.
For you've taught me how to slaughter and to hate the enemy.
And I know that I'll be ready when they march me off to war,
And I know that it won't matter that I've never killed before.
And I know that it won't matter that I've never killed before.

What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?
What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?

I learned that Washington never told a lie.
I learned that soldiers seldom die.
I learned that everybody's free,
And that's what the teacher said to me.
Chorus
That's what I learned in school today,
That's what I learned in school.

What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?
What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?
I learned that policemen are my friends.
I learned that justice never ends.
I learned that murderers die for their crimes
Even if we make a mistake sometimes.
Chorus

What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?
What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?
I learned our Government must be strong;
It's always right and never wrong;
Our leaders are the finest men
And we elect them again and again.
Chorus

What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?
What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?
I learned that war is not so bad;
I learned about the great ones we have had;
We fought in Germany and in France
And someday I might get my chance.
Chorus

King Henry marched forth, a sword in his hand
Two thousand horsemen all at his command
In a fortnight the rivers ran red through the land
The year, fifteen hundred and twenty

The year is now nineteen sixty five
It's easier far to stay alive
Just keep your mouth shut while the planes zoom and dive
Ten thousand miles over the ocean

Simon was drafted in sixty-three
In sixty-four, sent over the sea
Last month this letter he sent to me
He said, "You won't like what I'm saying"

He said, We've no friends here, no hardly a one
We've got a few generals who just want our guns
But it will take more than them if we're ever to win
Why, we'll have to flatten the country

It's my own troops I have to watch out for, he said
I sleep with a pistol right under my head
He wrote this last month, last week he was dead
And Simon came home in a casket

I mind my own business, I watch my TV
Complain about taxes, but pay anyway
In a civilized manner, my forefathers betray
Who long ago struggled for freedom

But each day a new headline screams at my bluff
On TV some general says, "We must be tough"
In my dreams I stare at this family I love
All gutted and spattered with napalm

King Henry marched forth, a sword in his hand
Two thousand horsemen all at his command
In a fortnight the rivers ran red through the land
The year, fifteen hundred and twenty

The year is now nineteen sixty five
It's easier far to stay alive
Just keep your mouth shut while the planes zoom and dive
Ten thousand miles over the ocean

I got a job in a factory
Feeding a beast that don't like me
It don't give a darn about how I feel
As long as I feed it its ration of steel

And pity the man who knows the grief
That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth
Pity the man who knows the grief
That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth

Watch your mitts at the start of the stroke
It's a re-peat killer, and will go for broke
It shoulda been melted 'bout twenty years back
But it feeds the boss and he loves that snack

Oh Beast, spare my hands
I'll use them to slay you if I get the chance
Oh Beast, spare my hands
I'll use them to slay you if I get the chance

There ain't no guards to slow up a man
Keep your foot on the pedal and your eye on the ram
If your hand should slip, why the boss don't shout
He just buys new fingers as he throws you out

There's plenty of hands to feed the jaws
The press don't stop when there ain't no cause
There's plenty of hands to feed the jaws
The press don't stop when there ain't no cause

There ain't one man out on the press
Who wouldn't quit if jobs weren't scarce
But a man has to have his daily meal
And that Beast's gotta have its cold rolled steel

Deep inside remain the dreams
That make us the masters of the machines
While deep inside remain the dreams
That make us the masters of the machines

Well, now, I got a job in a factory
Feeding a beast that don't like me
It don't give a darn about how I feel
As long as I feed it its ration of steel
Long as I feed it its ration of steel