The soldier boy for his soliders pay
obeys theeargent at arms whatever he says
The seargent will for his seargent's pay
obeythe general order of the battle play
The generals bow to the government
obey the charge you must not relent
What of the neighbors and the prophets in bars?
what are they saying in the publiz bazaar?
we are tired of the tune
you must not relent
At every stroke of the bell in the tower there goes
another boy from another side
The bulletins that steady come in say those
familiar words at the top of the hour
The jamming city increases its hum
and those terrible words continue to come
Through bras music of government hear those
guns tattoo a roll on the drums
No-one mentions the neighboring war
no one knows what they're fighting for
we are tired of the tune
you must not relent