Given the present international climate, it might be useful to post some draft-dodging songs for the next generation. Here's one that I put together during the Vietnam War Era (copy/paste into WORD/TIMES/10 to set the chords correctly):


DRAFT DODGER'S FAREWELL

(By Charlie Ipcar © 1974
Tune: after Bob Dylan's "Maggie's Farm")


Dm-------C-------Dm-------------C-----Dm
I'm leaving Monday morning, headed for the North,
-----------------C----Dm-------------------C-------Dm
'Long a road I've often traveled, while tripping back and forth;
------------C------Dm----------------C-------Dm
I'll cross the old St. Lawrence, roll on to Mon-tre-al
F------Dm-F------Dm-------------C---Dm
There I plan to settle down, give them all a call.

Chorus:

F-------------------------Dm---------------C--Dm
Don't want my draft board to worry 'bout me any more, more, more,
-----------------------------------------C-------Dm
Don't want my draft board to worry 'bout me any more;
Dm---------F---------------------Dm----------------C----Dm
Don't want my draft board to worry 'bout me any more, more, more,
------------F-----------------------C-----------Dm
Don't want my draft board to worry 'bout me any more!

Now my draft board's very busy, they work both day and night,
They need warm bodies for our mighty nation's fight,
Well, my body's cold and shivering when I think of all they do,
So I'm leaving Monday morning, gonna leave this song with you. (CHO)

I saw the recruiting sergeant, I asked him for advice,
He said, "The Peace Corps full of Commies, son, I'll find you something nice;
Right here on this dotted line your name you must sign,
Don't ask me where you're going, I just know your luck is fine!" (CHO)

"Sit right down," the doctor said, "Tell me all the news;
Do you love your mammie? Did you ever have the blues?
Tell me all about yourself, how you live your life,
Did you ever wet the bed, and why don't you have a wife." (CHO)

"Now listen, Doc, I had a dream just the other day,
I dreamed that I was a spy for the CIA,
Our President, he says to me, 'You're gonna need both fists,
For I'm sending you down to Lansing town to look for Communists!'" (CHO)

"I walked into a tavern there, stepped up to the bar,
My steel-trap mind could tell that there was trouble not too far,
Then the whole place exploded, there was Commies everywhere,
I said, 'I'm from the CIA!' They didn't seem to care." (CHO)

"Get your pad," nurse, the doctor said, "I think this boy's insane;
Evil spirits have infused the soft spots in his brain;
He's obviously insecure, I bet he sucks his thumb;
He's an unpatriotic, no-good, bearded, rotten bum.

So I'm leaving Monday morning, heading for the North,
'Long a road I've often traveled, while tripping back and forth;
I'll cross the old St. Lawrence, roll on to Montreal
There I plan to settle down, give them all a call.

Final Chorus:

Don't want my draft board to worry 'bout me any more, more, more,
Don't want my draft board to worry 'bout me any more;
Don't want my draft board to worry 'bout me any more, more, more,
Don't want my draft board to worry 'bout me any more!

Cheerily,
Charley Noble