gram parsons
my uncle
A letter came today from the draft board With trembling hands I read the questionnaire It asked me questions about my mama and papa Now that ain't what I call exactly fair So I'm heading for the nearest foreign border Vancouver might be just my kind of town 'Cause they don't need the kind of law and order That tends to keep a good man underground A sad old soldier once told me a story About a battlefield that he was on He said a man should never fight for glory He must know what is right and what is wrong Now, I don't know how much I owe my uncle But I suspect it's more than I can pay He's asking me to sign a three-year contract I guess I'll catch the first bus out today