Working for the Yankee Dollar Lyrics

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
horus
Yankee, to war
Yankee, head high
Yankee, in call
Yankee, we cry
Link
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
horus
Yankee, to war
Yankee, head high
Yankee, in call
Yankee, we cry
ridge
Working for the Yankee dollar
Working for the Yankee dollar
Working for the Yankee dollar
Working for the Yankee dollar
Instrumental
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
horus
Yankee, to war
Yankee, head high
Yankee, in call
Yankee, we cry
Instrumental
ridge
Working for the Yankee dollar
Working for the Yankee dollar
Working for the Yankee dollar
Working for the Yankee dollar
Working for the Yankee dollar
Yankee, to war
Yankee, head high
Yankee, in call
Yankee, we cry