Met de tekst erbij is het nummer uit mijn winkelmandje nog meer een meesterwerkje 🙂
Its funny how you never knew what my name was,
Our only contact was a form for the election.
These days I find that you don't listen,
These days I find that we're out of touch,
These days I find that I'm too busy,
So why the attention now you want my assistance -
what have you done for me?
You've gone and got yourself in trouble,
Now you want me to help you out.
These days I find that I can't be bothered,
These days I find that it's all too much,
To pick up a gun and shoot a stranger,
But I've got no choice so here I come - war games.
I'm up on the hills playing little boy soldiers,
Reconnaissance duty up at 5:30.
Shoot shoot shoot and kill the natives,
You're one of us and we love you for that.
Think of honour, Queen and country.
You're a blessed son of the British Empire,
God's on our side and so is Washington.
Come out on the hills with the little boy soldiers.
Come on outside - I'll sing you a lullaby,
And tell the tale of how goodness prevailed.
We ruled the world - we killed and robbed,
The fucking lot - but we don't feel bad.
It was done beneathe the flag of democracy,
You'll believe - and I do, yes I do - yes I do -
Yes I do
These days I find that I can't be bothered,
To argue with them - well, what's the point?
Better to take your shots and drop down dead,
Then they send you home in a pine overcoat.
With a letter to your mum
Saying 'find enclosed one son, one medal' - and a note to say he won.
Its funny how you never knew what my name was,
Our only contact was a form for the election.
These days I find that you don't listen,
These days I find that we're out of touch,
These days I find that I'm too busy,
So why the attention now you want my assistance -
what have you done for me?
You've gone and got yourself in trouble,
Now you want me to help you out.
These days I find that I can't be bothered,
These days I find that it's all too much,
To pick up a gun and shoot a stranger,
But I've got no choice so here I come - war games.
I'm up on the hills playing little boy soldiers,
Reconnaissance duty up at 5:30.
Shoot shoot shoot and kill the natives,
You're one of us and we love you for that.
Think of honour, Queen and country.
You're a blessed son of the British Empire,
God's on our side and so is Washington.
Come out on the hills with the little boy soldiers.
Come on outside - I'll sing you a lullaby,
And tell the tale of how goodness prevailed.
We ruled the world - we killed and robbed,
The fucking lot - but we don't feel bad.
It was done beneathe the flag of democracy,
You'll believe - and I do, yes I do - yes I do -
Yes I do
These days I find that I can't be bothered,
To argue with them - well, what's the point?
Better to take your shots and drop down dead,
Then they send you home in a pine overcoat.
With a letter to your mum
Saying 'find enclosed one son, one medal' - and a note to say he won.
het Nederlandse vingertje 
Ian dury and the blockheads.
Hit me with your rhythmstick.
Ook een leuk nummer
ROBJE
Hit me with your rhythmstick.
Ook een leuk nummer
ROBJE
