پارانویآ

Our little army boy Is coming home from B.F.P.O. I've a bunch of purple flowers To decorate mammy's hero Mourning in the aerodrome The weather warmer, he is colder Four men in uniform To carry home my little soldier (What could he do?) (Should have been a rock star) But he didn't have the money for a guitar (What could he do?) (Should have been a politician) But he never had a proper education (What could he do?) (Should have been a father) But he never even made it to his twenties What a waste Army dreamers Oh, what a waste of Army (army) dreamers (dreamers) Tears o'er a tin box Oh, Jesus Christ, he wasn't to know Like a chicken with a fox He couldn't win the war with ego Give the kid the pick of pips And give him all your stripes and ribbons Now he's sitting in his hole He might as well have buttons and bows (What could he do?) (Should have been a rock star) But he didn't have the money for a guitar (What could he do?) (Should have been a politician) But he never had a proper education (What could he do?) (Should have been a father) But he never even made it to his twenties What a waste Army dreamers Ooh, what a waste of Army (army) dreamers (dreamers) Ooh, what a waste of all them Army (army) dreamers (dreamers) Army (army) dreamers (dreamers) Army (army) dreamers, oh