David L. Martins - 1964 lyrics

I've seen Tall figures that roam in small pictures Dig a hole, lit up, with 6-4's, the ole vintage A bold vision of war sourced to cold prisons Seen a who*e dead on the floor, torched, the corpse twitches & fall switches to winter -winter turns into summer The midnight sun is burnin' the rubber From under the gutter The others find solace in umbrage, just huddled in hundreds The youngest cry, shunned from the suffrage -"Oh my brothers" Infants are sick and some of them still scream How wicked the innocent mothers milk seemed Still scene, uphill stream, tillers just peel seams The patriotism is but a shrill... Dream Cuz treason is a matter of dates The wise may sing more, but they spit in your face It's been a disgrace They say the cold war is over Abort all of us, with seeds to make the soil infertile