My flesh is my uniform, keep the flags for those who sleep in’em
don’t you gimme a gun, I’ll be making a spring wreath out of it
and using wooden sticks to make some music.
I don’t have weapons, I have tools;
my voice, some smiles, a pencil and lots of dreams,
you know, I’ll ask the enemy if he wants some of my bread,
and if he says “no”, I will let him go.
I’ll sing loud enough to cover the sound of bullets taking the lives
of men,and women,and children who asked for no war,
I’ll be dancing with my fellow soldiers, I’ll teach them some
latin moves, and we’ll be mocking you, Sir, for sending us to war, Sir,
so your bank account will grow bigger, Sir.
Cause this is not what I asked for, Sir,
and I refuse to embrace death and hatred and violence,
I can only write words, Sir
and I smile, a lot!, Sir,
I cannot destroy what I love, Sir
I’m a woman, I give Life, Sir.
At war, I’ll be a horrible soldier, Sir.