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 were 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
No you want me to help you out

These days I find that I can't be bothered
These days I find that its 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 honor queen and country
You're a blessed son of the British empire
Gods 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
Or tell a 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 beneath 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

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Paul John Weller