©1972 by Gordon Lightfoot

The songs of the wars
Are as old as the hills
They cling like the rust
On the cold steel that kills
They tell of the boys
Who went down to the tracks
In a patriotic manner
With the cold steel on their backs

The patriot's dream
Is as old as the sky
It lives in the l___
Of a cold callous lie
Let's drink to the men
Who got caught by the chill
Of the patriotic fever
And the cold steel that kills

The train pulled away
On that glorious night
The drummer got drunk
And the bugler got tight
While the boys in the back
Sang a song of good cheer
While riding off to glory
In the spring of their years

The patriot's dream
Still lives on today
It makes mothers weep
And it makes lovers pray
Let's drink to the men
Who got caught by the chill
Of the patriotic fever
And the cold steel that kills

Well there was a sad, sad lady
Weeping all night long
She received a sad, sad message
From a voice on the telephone
Her children were all sleeping
As she waited out the dawn
How could she tell those children
That their father was shot down

So she took them to her side that day
And she told them one by one
Your father was a good man
Ten thousand miles from home
He tried to do his duty
And it took him straight to Hell
He might be in some prison
I hope he's treated well

Well there was a young girl watching
In the early afternoon
When she heard the name of someone
Who said he'd be home soon
And she wondered how they got him
But the papers did not tell
There would be no sweet reunion
There would be no wedding bells

So she took herself into her room
And she turned the bed sheets down
And she cried into the silken folds
Of her new wedding gown
He tried to do his duty
And it took him straight to Hell
He might be in some prison
I hope he's treated well

Well there was an old man sitting
In his mansion on the hill
And he thought of his good fortune
And the time he'd yet to kill
Well he called to his wife one day
"Come sit with me awhile"
Then turning toward the sunset
He smiled a wicked smile

"Well I'd like to say I'm sorry
For the sinful deeds I've done
But let me first remind you
I'm a patriotic son"
They tried to do their duty
And it took 'em straight to Hell
They might be in some prison
I hope they're treated well

The songs of the wars
Are as old as the hills
They cling like the rust
On the cold steel that kills
They tell of the boys
Who went down to the tracks
In a patriotic manner
With the cold steel on their backs

The train pulled away
On that glorious night
The drummer got drunk
And the bugler got tight
While the boys in the back
Sang a song of good cheer
While riding off to glory
In the spring of their years

The patriot's dream
Still lives on today
It makes mothers weep
And it makes lovers pray
Let's drink to the men
Who got caught by the chill
Of the patriotic fever
And the cold steel that kills

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