ROUGH DRAFT
     

[Bluegrass feel].

Sheriff came half past nine
Waving something white
Said I had to shave my hair
Go on off and fight
Daddy I can't mind the farm
You'll just have to cope
They've hit me with the rough draft
Seems I can't say no

Baby came half past twelve
Cheeks all stained and wet
Asks me who I'll have to fight
I say I don't know yet
She gives me a locket
With a picture of us two
They've hit me with the rough draft
And there ain't much I can do

Mama came half past five
Told me to be brave
Said the boys were fighting
So we didn't become slaves
I told her I'd do my best
Trying not to cry
But they've hit me with the rough draft
And I might have to die

Grandpa came half past two
Talking in my dream
Told me to hide in the bush
Like he did at nineteen
Didn't do him any good
They found him up a tree
Sent him to the trenches
Where they blew away his knee

Train came half past nine
I get kissed goodbye
No more time for growing food
No more time for rhymes
No more time for having kids
Or learning how to dance
They've hit me with the rough draft
Hope to God I've got a chance

[Solo to end].



© David Lowe 1991