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The Skids
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Working For The Yankee Dollar
Skids Yankee, to war Yankee, head high Yankee, in call Yankee, we cry
In Germany in the forty five, my mind was on the altar Thought of god, the iron rod and thought that needed shelter From 'Tragen' pain and men insane and eyes that got much colder Saw a German son with a Yankee gun and a uniform much older
Yankee, to war Yankee, head high Yankee, in call Yankee, we cry
Working for the Yankee dollar Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Working for the Yankee dollar
Processions bear that human flare which mark a hero's welcome For those dead and for those shed it was a big occasion And all flags and Yankee mags which embroidered all the meaning In an oversight, forgot the fight, which never bore elation
Yankee, to war Yankee, head high Yankee, in call Yankee, we cry
Working for the Yankee dollar Working for the Yankee dollar
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