Draft Dodger Rag (Phil Ochs)                          without blood and gore, Well I'll be the first    
                                                      to go.                                            
I'm just a typical American boy from a typical                                                          
American town. I believe in God and Senator Dodd      [chorus]                                          
and in keeping old Castro down. And when it came                                                        
my time to serve, I knew better dead than red.                                                          
But when I got to my ol' draft board, buddy this                                                        
is what I said:                                                                                         
                                                                                                        
[chorus]:                                                                                               
    Sarge, I'm only eighteen, I got a                                                                   
    ruptured spleen, And I always carry a                                                               
    purse. I got eyes like a bat, and my                                                                
    feet are flat, and my asthma's getting                                                              
    worse. Oh, think of my career, my                                                                   
    sweetheart dear, my poor old invalid                                                                
    aunt. Besides, I ain't no fool, I'm                                                                 
    going to school, And I'm working in a                                                               
    defense plant.                                                                                      
                                                                                                        
I got a dislocated disc, and a racked up back,                                                          
I'm allergic to flowers and bugs, And when the                                                          
bombshell hits I get epileptic fits And I'm                                                             
addicted to a thousand drugs. I got the weakness                                                        
woes, I can't touch my toes, I can hardly reach                                                         
my knees. And if the enemy came close to me, I'd                                                        
probably start to sneeze.                                                                               
                                                                                                        
[chorus]                                                                                                
                                                                                                        
I hate Chou En Lai and I hope he dies, but one                                                          
thing you gotta see, That someone's gotta go                                                            
over there, and that someone isn't me. So I wish                                                        
you well, Sarge, give 'em hell, Yeah, kill me a                                                         
thousand or so. And if you ever get a war