The Drum
I'm a beautiful red, red drum,
And I train with the soldier boys;
As up the street we come,
Wonderful is our noise!
There's Tom, and Jim, and Phil,
And Dick, and Nat, and Fred,
While Widow Cutler's Bill
And I march on ahead,
With a r-r-rat-tat-tat
And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum -
Oh, there's bushels of fun in that
For boys with a little red drum!
The Injuns came last night
While the soldiers were abed,
And they gobbled a Chinese kite
And off to the woods they fled!
The woods are the cherry-trees
Down in the orchard lot,
And the soldiers are marching to seize
The booty the Injuns got.
With tum-titty-um-tum-tum,
And r-r-rat-tat-tat,
When soldiers marching come
Injuns had better scat!
Step up there, little Fred,
And, Charley, have a mind!
Jim is as far ahead
As you two are behind!
Ready with gun and sword
Your valorous work to do -
Yonder the Injun horde
Are lying in wait for you.
And their hearts go pitapat
When they hear the soldiers come
With a r-r-rat-tat-tat
And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum!
Course it's all in play!
The skulking Injun crew
That hustled the kite away
Are little white boys, like you!
But 'honest' or 'just in fun,'
It is all the same to me;
And, when the battle is won,
Home once again march we
With a r-r-rat-tat-tat
And tum-titty-um-tum-tum;
And there's glory enough in that
For the boys with their little red drum!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Know What Boys Like
Boys, boys
He you wanna know something?
Boys, boys
Boys like girls
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I seem them looking (looking)
I make them want me
I like to tease them
And they want to touch me
I never let them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like me
I got my cat moves
That so upsets them
Zippers and buttons
Fun to frustrate them
They get so angry
Like pouty children
Denied their candy
I laugh right at them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I think you're special
I might let you
You're so much different
I might let you
There's no one like you
I might let you
Or would you like that?
I might let you
Sucker!
Boys, b-b-boys
Boys, b-b-b-boys
G-g-g-g-got what boys want
G-g-g-got
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
Yeah, I know what boys like
Come on girls, you know what they like
It ain't no secret
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldiers
soldiers, soldiers,
marching in dead time.
ghouls without faces,
in mechanical rhyme.
paid for, paid off,
eyes open and blind.
hearts severed from the soul,
soul severed from the mind.
gunfire, racism,
treat women like a toy.
grown men without mothers,
fathers, just boys.
gang bangers, pimp daddies,
kings of purgatory.
bad drugs, bad days,
and nights without joy.
cant pay the rent, get a job,
and prison becomes their school.
no hope for nothing more than nothing,
trapped by the have not rules....
soldiers, soldiers.
pawns in the rich man's game.
victims of unholy anger,
and gods that have no name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soldiers
Do I hear what I think Im hearing?
Do I see the signs I think I see?
Or is this just a fantasy?
Is it true that the beast is waking
Stirring in his restless sleep tonight
In the pale moonlight
In the grip of this cold december
You and I have reason to remember
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I dont sing
They blow their horns and march along
They drum their drums and look so strong
Youd think that nothing in the world was wrong
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I wont sing
Lets not look the other way
Taking a chance
cause if the bugler starts to play
We too must dance
Whats that sound, whats that dreadful rumble?
Wont somebody tell me what I hear?
In the distance but drawing near
Is it only a storm approaching?
All that thunder and the blinding light
In the winter night
In the grip of this cold december
You and I have reason to remember
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I dont sing
They blow their horns and march along
They drum their drums and look so strong
Youd think that nothing in the world was wrong
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I wont sing
Lets not look the other way
Taking a chance
cause if the bugler starts to play
We too must dance
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I wont sing
Lets not look the other way
Taking a chance
cause if the bugler starts to play
We too must dance
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With Trumpet and Drum
With big tin trumpet and little red drum,
Marching like soldiers, the children come!
It 's this way and that way they circle and file---
My! but that music of theirs is fine!
This way and that way, and after a while
They march straight into this heart of mine!
A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb
To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that drum!
Come on, little people, from cot and from hall---
This heart it hath welcome and room for you all!
It will sing you its songs and warm you with love,
As your dear little arms with my arms intertwine;
It will rock you away to the dreamland above---
Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of mine,
And jollier still is it bound to become
When you blow that big trumpet and beat that red drum!
So come; though I see not his dear little face
And hear not his voice in this jubilant place,
I know he were happy to bid me enshrine
His memory deep in my heart with your play---
Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine
Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day!
And my heart it is lonely---so, little folk, come,
March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Drummer Boy
A drummer boy dressed in white tapped his drum as he passed by my bed,
he never looked at me, and not a word was said.
Tippy tap drum, tippy tap drum, tippy tap drum, was his marching beat.
There was blood from a wound, but he kept to his feet.
As he marched back and forth it looked as though he was going to fall,
but he continued to beat his drum, as he walked through the wall.
On his departure the sound of a bugle was heard above the drum,
whistling rifle shots and cannon fire added to the battle’s hum.
A boy dressed in red and white, blowing a bugle marched passed my bed,
he had suffered a wound, and blood was flowing from his head.
Blowing with all his might I could see the determination on his face,
he seemed to be running out of breath, as he slowly lost the pace.
The drummer boy came up beside him and marched by his side,
the bugle boy stood up straight, and blew the charge as he cried.
Another drummer boy passed my bed followed by two more,
the bugle boy stood and looked ahead, and then fell to the floor.
Several soldiers charged pass, with bayonets fixed for attack,
passing the drummer boy one yelled, “Keep playing and don’t look back.”
With the sound of bullets in the air and shells exploding all around
soldiers charged and fell by my bed to the now distant drumming sound.
It suddenly all went quiet as everyone disappeared through the wall,
except for the drummer boy who played as he stood tall.
Tippy tap drum, tippy tap drum, tippy tap drum; a much softer beat,
he then looked at me with tears in his eyes, as he faded at my feet.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I saw soldiers
I saw soldiers
with eyes opened wide
who in fear, dutiful served their country.
They were only boys and moreover
unravelled from all humanity
and mechanical like an oiled machine.
Aged early, cold in heart and soul and besides
driven past madness and stripped from reason
to in fear, dutiful serve their country.
Without any glory or esteem
they assaulted the enemy challenging death
and I saw young brave soldiers.
Boys abandoning their own free will
and caught in a almost endless cycle
to in fear, dutiful serve their country
Boys who did not concede to the reasons for the war,
later sold out by politicians,
I saw as soldiers
who in fear, dutiful served their country.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soldier (not really a poem)
the american revolution was fought witha new breed of soldier.
this country was founded on that soldier.
that soldier is the one that those on the front lines calls the coward
that soldier is the one that those on the front lines call when they need help
because these soldiers dont miss.
these soldiers are trained harder than the most elite frontline man
these soldiers are tought to kill their enemy before there enemy sees them.
these soldiers are the ghosts in the night,
these soldiers are the wind in the day
these soldiers are everywhere.
these soldiers are the bush next to u.
these soldiers are the the tree across the field.
these soldiers are the lump of snow in the flat plain.
these soldiers are snipers.
snipers are the reason we are free.
snipers stop the enemy before the enemy gets close to u,
poem by Joshua Decker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Boys Come Home
There's a happy time coming,
When the boys come home.
There's a glorious day coming,
When the boys come home.
We will end the dreadful story
Of this treason dark and gory
In a sunburst of glory,
When the boys come home.
The day will seem brighter
When the boys come home,
For our hearts will be lighter
When the boys come home.
Wives and sweethearts will press them
In their arms and caress them,
And pray God to bless them,
When the boys come home.
The thinned ranks will be proudest
When the boys come home,
And their cheer will ring the loudest
When the boys come home.
The full ranks will be shattered,
And the bright arms will be battered,
And the battle-standards tattered,
When the boys come home.
Their bayonets may be rusty,
When the boys come home,
And their uniforms dusty,
When the boys come home.
But all shall see the traces
Of battle's royal graces,
In the brown and bearded faces,
When the boys come home.
Our love shall go to meet them,
When the boys come home,
To bless them and to greet them,
When the boys come home;
And the fame of their endeavor
Time and change shall not dissever
From the nation's heart forever,
When the boys come home.
White Boys Cant Control It
When youre a white boy
Life gets you high
You hold out thinking
That you know why
You hold out
With the law of men
And when you die
Youre born again
Put down your gun
And find your heart
Were dying soldiers
We dont dance for the devil
When youre a white boy
Your life is lust
You kiss and run
And you mistrust
You hold out
With the nowhere men
You dance your dance
And try again
Put down your gun
And find your heart
Were dying soldiers
In the dark (we are no rebels)
You know white boys (cant control it)
You know white boys (never hold it)
You know white boys (hard to swallow)
You know white boys always follow
(follow who)
Put down your gun
And find your heart
Were dying soldiers
We dont dance for the devil
song performed by by Culture Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Shall Rule This American Nation?
Who shall rule this American Nation?
Say, boys, say!
Who shall sit in the loftiest station?
Say, boys, say!
Shall the men who trampled on the banner?
They who now their country would betray?
They who murder the innocent freedmen?
Say, boys, say!
"No, never! no, never!"
The loyal millions say;
And 'tis they who rule this American Nation!
They, boys, they!
Who shall rank as the family royal?
Say, boys, say!
If not those who are honest and loyal?
Say, boys, say!
Then shall one elected as our servant,
In his pride, assume a regal sway?
Must we bend to a human Dictator?
Say, boys, say!
Shall we tarnish our national glory?
Say, boys, say!
Blot one line from the wonderful story?
Say, boys, say!
Did we vainly shed our blood in battle?
Did our troops resultless win the day?
Was our time and our treasure all squander'd?
Say, boys, say!
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mrs. Ward
On friday afternoon at three o'clock
A passing lady looked into a shop
Her eyes lit up as this the sign she read
Recruiting office, that is what it said
Exacitedly she stepped inside to see
How her sons would fair if they were militry
The man in charge to her was very sweet
And said, "please sign here on this little sheet"
But when she got home her mind grew many fears
The message from the soldiers in the war rang in her ears
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
At six o'clock the lads came home from work
She told them what she'd done, they went beserk
We'll have to go to war and fight and die
And mrs. ward she wiped a tear from her eye
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Boy's
Urban concrete jungle
In the twilight hours
This is where the lost boys are.
Kaleidoscope eyes,
Discordant vowels
These are the marks the lost boys make.
Electronic beats,
Songs of angst
These are the sounds the lost boys need.
Sad panda eyes,
Downward faces
The war paint of the lost boys.
Drum boogie,
Anti fashion,
This is what the lost boys wear.
Rejected by society,
Reminders of youth since lost
This is who the lost boys are.
Two o'clock shadows
Artificial mist provides cover
As the lost boys slip home.
On the dance floor,
By the bar
This is where the lost boys are.
poem by Amos Greig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clowns Of Death
Im the one who preys upon the weakest
And the weakest always preys upon the one whos underneath
Im the one who doesnt see the waves of human kindness or the tides that
Turn the day
Im the one who always turns and looks away
Turns and looks away
[chorus 1]
Because after all, we are only boys
Because after all, we are only boys
Will be boys will be boys will be boys
Will be boys will be boys will be boys will be boys
Will be boys will be boys will be boys
Will be boys will be boys will be boys
Will be boys will be boys will be boys
Im the one treads upon the weaker ones
Those that I can find
And therell always be some others who could march along in line, yeah
March along in line
And, well move upon the world in a massive tidal wave
And well shout and make some noise, yeah
Shout and make some noise
[chorus 1]
[chorus 2]
The clowns of death are marching on their hideous parade
Their glaring eyes are filled with hate, but I am not afraid
Their painted faces cracked with age, their makeup old and worn
With tattered wings and toothy grins to amplify their scorn
Theyre looking for the helpless ones
Theyre looking for the misbegotten
They prey upon the weak and fractured
The crippled and the freaks of nature
And when the come upon one whos lost or is alone
Their smiles get even bigger and their noses start to glow
Making snarling sounds to pantomime with furious abandon
And with a scream they pounce to kill and all the while theyre laughing
Im the one treads upon the weaker ones
Those that I can find
And therell always be some others who will march along in line
And, well move upon the world in a massive tidal wave
And well shout and make some noise, yeah
Shout and make some noise
[chorus 1]
[chorus 2]
Your sons and daughters, innocent, lay sleeping in their beds
Theyll catch them when youre not around and smash their little heads
If you think it just a dream, or that it isnt fair
Just look around outside your door, the clowns are everywhere
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want to be a Soldier
I will be a soldier
Only when soldiers realize
They are not animals or
cattles
Only if soldiers can ask
'Why should I shoot that
innocent man? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers can ask the
commander
'Why should we shoot at
the children? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers know that
The red blood that runs
through their veins
Runs in the rest peopl's too.
I would be a soldier if
Soldiers know they aren't
what they ask them to be
When they know that
The Emperor will never ask
them to kill his children
I would be a soldier
When soldiers realize war
is inhuman
When soldiers know war
always starts war
When they know that
World peace can not be
reached through war
When United Nations can
ask themselves
Is war the only way to end
corruption in the globe?
When soldiers know the
distance between peace and
war.
When soldiers realize how
intoxicative the gun is.
When soldiers realize
that gun does not control
them, but they control it.
I would be a soldier only if
soldiers know
why Martin Luther King jnr.
was killed.
If they know Adolf Hitler
also tried to make peace
through war.
I would be a soldier
If they can tell me why they
are only trained to kill.
I would be a soldier if
soldier can say
NO TO BRUTE LEADERS.
I would be a soldier if
soldiers know
the difference between
death and birth.
I would be a soldier if they
can tell
Why they are weapons of
destruction?
If they can explain why they
killed at Vietnam?
Why they killed at Somalia?
Why Ghadafi was killed
without trial?
Why Abraham Lincoln was
shot
Why Ghandi was killed,
Why they dont care if they
die in war in the name of
peace.
I would be a soldier If soldiers know they have rights If soldiers know they need Freedom. I would be a soldier If the goverments around the world realize How wonderful the world would be If the money invests in atomic weapons can be spent To feed billions of children on the streets of India, Nigeria, Brazil, South Africa The United States and all the streets of the World. I would be a soldier when soldiers can fight for liberty And not for slavery When soldiers know that nobody should think for them When soldiers know they are humans not cattles, When they realize that nobody should tell them what to think and what to feel. If soldiers can be humans, I would be a soldier.
poem by Idris Adesina
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Soldiers Return
(bell/clarke)
Slow the years go by
They stole your man off to war
Will you see the child
As you sing battle songs
And it pains me
To think of the soldiers plight
I will pray
For your heart to guide you home
And she cries for the soldiers return
Despair of feeling alone for so long
By the light of the candle that burns
For his life
For the day of the soldiers return
Hear the cannon fire
Lost voices echo in the night
See the spoils of war
Young men are falling, ooh
Hear the drummer marching oer the hill
Love returning and the graves of the battle lie still
And she cries...(chorus)
Hear the drummer marching oer the hill
Love returning and the graves of the battle lie still
And she cries...(chorus)
Young men are falling, young men are falling...
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Toy Band
A Song of the Great Retreat
Dreary lay the long road, dreary lay the town,
Lights out and never a glint o' moon:
Weary lay the stragglers, half a thousand down,
Sad sighed the weary big Dragoon.
"Oh! if I'd a drum here to make them take the road again,
Oh! if I'd a fife to wheedle, Come, boys, come!
You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your load again,
Fall in! Fall in! Follow the fife and drum!
"Hey, but here's a toy shop, here's a drum for me,
Penny whistles too to play the tune!
Half a thousand dead men soon shall hear and see
We're a band!" said the weary big Dragoon.
Rubadub! Rubadub! Wake and take the road again,
Wheedle-deedle-deedle-dee, Come, boys, come!
You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your load again,
Fall in! Fall in! Follow the fife and drum!"
Cheerly goes the dark road, cheerly goes the night,
Cheerly goes the blood to keep the beat;
Half a thousand dead men marching on to fight
With a little penny drum to lift their feet.
Rubadub! Rubadub! Wake, and take the raod again,
Wheedle-deedle-deedle-dee, Come, boys, come!
You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your load again,
Fall in! Fall in! Follow the fife and drum!
As long as there's an Englishman to ask a tale of me,
As long as I can tell the tale aright,
We'll not forget the penny whistle's wheedle-deedle-dee
And the big Dragoon a-beating down the night,
Rubadub! Rubadub! Wake and take the road again,
Wheedle-deedle-deedle-dee, Come, boys, come!
You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your load again,
Fall in! Fall in! Follow the fife, and drum!
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boys Keep Swinging
1.2.3.4
Heaven loves ya
The clouds part for ya
Nothing stands in your way
When youre a boy
Clothes always fit ya
Life is a pop of the cherry
When youre a boy
When youre a boy
You can wear a uniform
When youre a boy
Other boys check you out
You get a girl
These are your favourite things
When youre a boy
Boys
Boys
Boys keep swinging
Boys always work it out
Uncage the colours
Unfurl the flag
Luck just kissed you hello
When youre a boy
Theyll never clone ya
Youre always first on the line
When youre a boy
When youre a boy
You can buy a home of your own
When youre a boy
Learn to drive and everything
Youll get your share
When youre a boy
Boys
Boys
Boys keep swinging
Boys always work it out
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldiers Return
*****Erasure Lyrics*****
*****Version 1.0*****
Albums and B-Sides
-Painstakingly compiled and transcribed by John Setlik
([email protected]) with much help from Vidar Hanssen and Wes Hsu
-Source of lyrics indicated for each album or song
-Please do not re-distribute for commercial purposes
-The Soldiers Return- (transcribed by VH)
Slow the years go by
They stole your man off to war
Will you see the child
As you sing a better song
And it pains me
To think the soldiers
I will pray
For you've gone to guide you home
chorus:
And she cried for the soldiers return
Despair of feeling alone for so long
By the light of a candle that burns
For his life for the day of the soldiers return
Hear the cannons fire
Lost voices echo in the night
See the spoils of war
Young men are falling, ooh
Hear the drummer
Marching over the hill
Love returning
The graves of the battle lies still
chorus
Hear the drummer
Marching over the hill
Love returning
And the graves of the battle lies still
chorus
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's worth fighting for?
Soldiers march
march
march
march
march
wait ing for that first gunshot
waiting
waiting
waiting
waiti ng
whats wroth fighting for they wonder
whats there for me?
will you lead me away?
or leave me lying here?
yes i am a soldier now
but far away in the distance a voice calls
remember yourself and your life
your a soldier now fighting in a battle to be free once more
that's worth fighting for
poem by Marley Pullen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sing a Song of War-Time
Sing a Song of War-time,
Soldiers marching by,
Crowds of people standing,
Waving them ‘Good-bye’,
When the crowds are over,
Home we go to tea,
Bread and margarine to eat,
War economy!
If I ask for cake or
Jam of any sort,
Nurse says, “What, in War-time?
Archie, cert’nly not!
Life’s not very funny
Now, for little boys,
Haven’t any money.
Can’t buy any toys.
Mummie does the housework,
Can’t get any maid,
Gone to make munitions,
‘Cause they’re better paid,
nurse is always busy,
never time to play,
sewing shirts for soldiers,
nearly ev’ry day.
Ev’ry body’s doing
Something for the War,
Girls are doing things,
They’ve never done before.
Go as ‘bus conductors,
Drive a car or van,
All the world is topsy-turvy
Since the War began.
poem by Nina Murdoch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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