You Look Like a Soldier To Me

They drafted my body for South Vietnam, I said take a look, Can’t you see what I am? A gay and a Commie and I take LSD, They said “Son, you look like a soldier to me.” Although I protested they were being unfair, They volunteered me for a vacation out there, And then they sent me home on a hospital ship. Writing poems of protest about the whole trip. After I learned them upon my guitar, I wondered where all of the folk singers are? Are all of them out, is something else in? I went back home to start over again. I sold my guitar for a five dollar bill, And purchased some pleasure inside of a pill, That softened my head where it used to be hard, And bought me some bagpipes on my credit card. Too many songs, too many rhymes, Changing my instruments to keep with the times.