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All deserters will be shot At five o'clock tomorrow morning. So get yourselves together And quit messing around. No more nonsense. The assassination occurred At three thirty. No one was there to witness it. Even the breviaries had left Their tapestries on the window. And we were all silenced Letras de cancionesBy the sad mildewed cloud That followed around. I wish I was back in the land of the, Of the, uh, hmm... You can't pin that one on me. I didn't do a goddamn thing. I was just standing there Then a bunch of guys came up And started laying all this shit on me. Now what am I supposed to do? I'm an American. You can't touch me. Did you know all nuns are forty-two, And their eyes are blue? Did you know all tablecloths Are white in France? Did you know women wear underpants? Well they do. How does a musician imitate The sound of underpants sliding Over a woman's thighs, Down over her ankles, And over her little toes, And the rings on her toes, And her unclipped toe nails. Lightning struck the magic purse. I didn't do a damn thing, man. I was just standing there In front of the delicatessen And all these rabbis ran up And a bunch of Indians And freaks and monsters And just started talking In all these weird languages. What could I say? Hey I'm tired of being a freaky musician. I want to be Napoleon. Let's have some more wars around here. What a stinking shitty little war We have running over there. Let's get a big one. A real big one. With a lot of killings and bombs and blood. School days, school days Good old-fashioned rule days. School days, school days Good old-fashion rule days. Source: Edited version of a longer piece performed at the Aquarius Theater - July 22, 1969 From Letras Mania