Mercenaries
Words and Music by Harry Chapin

It's a slow motion night in the hot city lights
Past time when the good folks are snoring in bed
On a loose jointed cruise to recolor your blues
With illegal notions alive, alive in your head

You are back from some war that you've been fightin' for
Some old blue blood bastard in a dark pin stripped suit
And the word from you loins has your mind in your groin
And your back pocket burning with blood, blood money loot

So you walk past the glow of the flicker picture shows
Where the raincoat men wait for a child to come by
And the women in doorways who have nothing to say
'Cause your money is talking to the one that you would try

She owns the block with the dead pawn shop clock
She's the answer to dreams that you pay to come true
She's got no heart of gold but that's not what she sold
She just sees herself doing what she, what she has to do

And she's all that your hopin' as her coat falls open
Give her bread she leads you to a bed on the floor
Where for ten million years and through ten million tears
The armies of boot men have marched back from their wars

She's in that state of grace before time finds her face
With a mind of old wisdoms and a body still young
And she tastes as sweet as a child's chocolate treat
Before the butts and the whiskey have wasted the taste of your tongue

Play the music again of the grey stubbled men
That groan in blue symphony that moans ever more
And you watch as she fakes it and of course you just take it
She's better than others you never paid your money for

You've used up your booty, the girl's done her duty
The turn style has turned and you learn you are done
You're back on the street joining fresh marching feet
You see more soldiers coming and your girl chooses one

And the medic has brought shots for what you have caught
Your leave is all over, you're back on the line
And you joke in the trenches of the hot blooded wenches
And the things that you'll do when they next give you the time

And you're back in your army, back sheddin' red blood
And you dream of a girl as you sleep in the mud
And you know you'd swap with her if the deal could be made
'Cause you'd rather be working at love, love as your trade