Theme (From "Born on the Fourth of July") (Excerpt)

歌詞

Marchin', I hear marchin' Outside my window in the rain I play checkers, I'm sick of checkers I'm sick of pain Marchin', I hear marchin' Outside my window in the rain I play checkers, I'm sick of checkers I'm sick of pain, I'm sick of pain Mondays, every Monday, sees my hollow eyes I liked Hank Williams, he died, Hank Williams I'm still alive, I'm still alive Blood red and blue, your flags on view Ticker tape rains on Fifth Avenue Some colored kid will shine your shoes Some orphan screams in a chow line queue For the whitewash and the tar brush don't lie Hey lucky, you to be born on the fourth of July Callin' storm, warnings callin' From Calvary to Bunker Hill Pontius Pilate turned the tarot And the reaper killed and the reaper killed Glory wave, old glory Sand Creek to Gettysburgh From Andrew Jackson to Richard Nixon For the brave new world, for the brave new world It's last request for protest time Some long haired kid on the subway line With a beaten guitar and a lot of time We shall overcome, well we never shall It's flags on lapels and faded decals Max Yasga and puka shells Dungarees and dying causes Body bags and pregnant pauses Day glow poster of Joan Baez Meditating, dating, yoga and EST Bells and flowers and beads of incense Well, none of that nuts makes any sense For the whitewash and the tar brush don't lie Hey lucky, you to be born on the fourth of July