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Mercenaries
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Harry Chapin
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1
It's a slow motion night
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In the hot city lights
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Past time when the good folks
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Are snoring in bed
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On a loose-jointed cruise
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To recolor your blues
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With illegal notions alive,
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Alive in your head
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You are back from some war
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That you've been fighting for
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Some old blue blood bastard
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In a dark pinstripe suit
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and the word from your loins
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Has your mind in your groin
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And your back pocket burning with blood
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Blood money loot
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So, you walk past the glow
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Of the flicker-picture shows
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Where the raincoat men wait
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For a child to come by
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And the women in doorways
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Who have nothing to say
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'Cause your money is talking
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To the ones that you would try
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She owns the block
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With the dead pawnshop clock
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She's the answer to dreams
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That you pay to come true
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She's got no heart of gold
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But that's not what she's sold
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She just sees herself doing what she
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What she has to do
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And she's all that you're hoping
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As her coat falls open
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Give her bread she leads you
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To a bed on the floor
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Where for ten million years
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And through ten billion tears
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The armies of bootmen have marched
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Back from their wars
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She's in that state of grace
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Before time finds her face
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With a mind of old wisdoms
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And a body still young
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And she tastes as sweet
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As a child's chocolate treat
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Before the butts and the whiskey
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Had wasted the taste of your tongue
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Play the music again
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Of the grey-stubble men
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That groaning blue symphony
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Moans evermore
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And you watch as she fakes it
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And of course you just take it
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She's better than others
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You never paid money for
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You've used up your booty
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The girl's done her duty
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The turnstile has turned
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And you learn you are done
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You're back on the street
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Joining fresh marching feet
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You see more soldiers coming
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And your girl chooses one
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And the medic has brought
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Shots for what you have caught
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Your leave is all over
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You're back on the line
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And the joke in the trenches
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Of the hot blooded wenches
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And the next thing that you'll do
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When they next give you the tim.
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And you're back in your army
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Back shedding red blood
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And you dream of the girl
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As you sleep in the mud
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And you know you'd swap with her
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If the deal could be made
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'Cause you'd rather be working at love
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Love as your trade
Harry Chapin - Cat's In The Cradle (Offi...
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