Working For The Yankee Dollar - Skids

Saw Vietnam as a partisan and wished I’d never been

As I held the rope on through the scope I wish I’d never seen

Where the air turned red as the bodies bled into a schoolboy’s dream

But who were there could only stare into this wondrous scene

Yankee, to war

Yankee, head high

Yankee, in call

Yankee, we cry

In Germany in the forty five, my mind was on the altar

Thought of god, the iron rod and thought that needed shelter

From 'Tragen' pain and men insane and eyes that got much colder

Saw a German son with a Yankee gun and a uniform much older

Yankee, to war

Yankee, head high

Yankee, in call

Yankee, we cry

Working for the Yankee dollar

Working for the Yankee dollar

Processions bear that human flare which mark a hero’s welcome

For those dead and for those shed it was a big occasion

And all flags and Yankee mags which embroidered all the meaning

In an oversight, forgot the fight, which never bore elation

Yankee, to war

Yankee, head high

Yankee, in call

Yankee, we cry

Working for the Yankee dollar

Working for the Yankee dollar