Phil Ochs - I Ain't Marching Anymore & Draft Dodger Rag Plus Country Joe
15th of March 2026 Music Video Of The Day Long Time Gone Sunday Phil Ochs (December 19, 1940-April 9, 1976) and Country Joe McDonald (January 1, 1942 – March 7, 2026)
It’s Sunday AM here in Australia. The excursion….as Orange Mince Head calls it…continues. This INCURSION…..who knows how long it will go on….or even how it will end. WE need MORE PEACE.
Oh, I marched to the Battle of New Orleans
At the end of the early British war
Young land started growing, young blood started flowing
But I ain’t marching anymore
For I killed my share of Injuns in a thousand different fights
I was there at the Little Big Horn
I heard many men a-lying, I saw many more a-dying
But I ain’t marching anymore
It’s always the old to lead us to the wars
It’s always the young to fall
Now look at all we’ve won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all?
For I stole California from the Mexican land
Fought in the bloody Civil War
Yes, I even killed my brothers, so many others
But I ain’t marching anymore
For I marched to the battles of the German trench
In a war that was bound to end all wars
Oh, I must have killed a million men, now they want me back again
But I ain’t marching anymore
It’s always the old to lead us to the wars
It’s always the young to fall
Now look at all we’ve won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all?
For I flew the final mission in the Japanese skies
Set off the mighty mushroom roar
When I saw the cities burning, knew that I was learning
That I ain’t marching anymore
Now the labor leader is screaming when they close the missile plant
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore
Call it peace or call it treason, call it love or call it reason
But I ain’t marching anymore
No, I ain’t marching anymore
Songwriters: Phil Ochs
I’m just a typical American boy,
From a typical American town,
I believe in God and Senator Dodd(3),
And keeping old Castro down,
And when it came my time to serve,
I knew “better dead than red”,
But when I got to my old draft board,
Buddy, this is what I said:
Sarge, I’m only eighteen, I got a ruptured spleen,
And I always carry a purse,
I got eyes like a bat, my feet are flat,
And my asthma’s getting worse,
Oh, think of my career, my sweetheart dear,
And my poor old invalid aunt,
Besides, I ain’t no fool, I’m a goin’ to school,
And I’m working in a defense plant
I’ve 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, and 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.
I hate Zhou En-Lai(5), 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 without blood and gore,
Well, I’ll be the first to go
Songwriter-Phil Ochs
And while we are on the topic of protest songs….RIP Country Joe Mcdoanld (January 1, 1942 – March 7, 2026)
Gimme an F…
Gimme a U…
Gimme a C…
Gimme a K…
What’s that spell?
What’s that spell?
What’s that spell?
What’s that spell?
What’s that spell?
yeah, c’mon on all you big strong men
Uncle Sam needs your help again
he’s got himself in a terrible jam
way down yonder in Vietnam
so put down your books and pick up a gun
we’re gonna have a whole lot of fun
and it’s 1, 2, 3, what’re we fighting for?
don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn
next stop is vietnam
and it’s 5, 6, 7, open up the pearly gates
well there ain’t no time to wonder why
whoopee! we’re all gonna die
well c’mon generals, let’s move fast
your big chance has come at last
gotta go out and get those Reds
the only good Commie is one who’s dead
and you know that peace can only be won
when we’ve blown ‘em all to kingdom come
well c’mon on Wall Street
don’t be slow
why this is war a-go-go
there’s plenty good money to be made
by supplin’ the Army with the tools of the trade
just hope and pray that if we drop the bomb
they drop it on-the Vietcong
chorus
well c’mon mothers throughout this land
pack your boys off to Vietnam
c’mon pops, don’t hesitate
send ‘em off before it’s too late
be the first one on your block to have your boy come home in a box
and it’s 1, 2, 3, what’re we fighting for?
don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn.
Songwriter-Country Joe McDonald
