Let me tell you the story
of a soldier named Dan.
Went out to fight the good fight
in South Vietnam,
Went out to fight for peace,
liberty and all,
Went out to fight for equality,
hope, let's go.
And the war drags on.

Found himself involved
in a sea of blood and bones,
Millions without faces,
without hope and without homes.
And the guns they grew louder
as they made dust out of bones
That the flesh had long since left
just as the people
left their homes.
And the war drags on.

They're just there
to try and make the people free,
But the way that they're doing it,
it don't seem like that to me.
Just more blood-letting
and misery and tears
That this poor country's known for the last
twenty years,
And the war drags on.

Last night poor Dan
had a nightmare it seems.
One kept occurring and re-occurring
in his dream:
Cities full of people burn
and scream and shoutin' loud
And right over head a great orange
mushroom cloud.
And there's no more war,
for there's no more world,
And the tears come streaming down.
Yes, I lie crying on
the ground.

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