Interpret:

Jam, The

Album:

Setting Sons

Its funny how you never knew what my name was,
Our only contact was a form for the election.
These days I find that you don’t listen,
These days I find that we’re out of touch,
These days I find that I’m too busy,
So why the attention now you want my assistance -
What have you done for me.


You’ve gone and got yourself in trouble,
No you want me to help you out.


These days I find that I can’t be bothered,
These days I find that it’s all too much,
To pick up a gun and shoot a stranger,
But I’ve got no choice so here I come - war games.


I’m up on the hills, playing little boy soldiers,
Reconnaissance duty up at 5:30.
Shoot shoot shoot and kill the natives,
You’re one of us and we love you for that.


Think of honour, queen and country,
You’re a blessed son of the british empire,
God’s on our side and so is washington.


Come out on the hills with the little boy soldiers.


Come on outside - I’ll sing you a lullaby,
Or tell a tale of how goodness prevailed.


We ruled the world - we killed and robbed,
The fucking lot - but we don’t feel bad.


It was done beneath the flag of democracy,
You’ll believe and I do - yes I do - yes I do -
Yes I do -


These days I find that I can’t be bothered,
To argue withthem well what’s the point,
Better to take your shots and drop down dead,
Then they send you home in a pine overcoat


With a letter to your mum


Saying find enclosed one son - one medal and a note -
To say he won.