LOTS OF LITTLE SOLDIERS

LOTS OF LITTLE SOLDIERS

by

Matt McGinn

My name is What you may call me and my father's was as well

Of a little game he taught me, now the story I will tell

We’d lots of little soldiers and as sure as the day would come

I sent them into battle with the rattle of me drum

I put them up on the table and I marched them all around

Then I battered them with the cannonballs and watched them falling down

I’d lots of little crosses that I laid upon the dead

Then I patched up all the wounded ones and sent them home to bed

I went round and asked the neighbours for a nickel or a dime

So I could buy some soldiers just to help me pass the time

They were always very kindly in supplying me with guns

And some of them even let me play at soldiers with their sons

And I put them up on the table and I marched them all around

Then I battered them with the cannonballs and watched them falling down

I’d lots of little crosses that I laid upon the dead

Then I patched up all the wounded ones and sent them home to bed

Whenever I went to the shop to buy me guns and tanks

The man there always smiled and patted me head and whispered, 'Thanks

If it wasn't for your soldier game, I don't know what I'd do

You keep me business busy, son, so here's an extra few'

And I put them up on the table and I marched them all around

Then I battered them with the cannonballs and watched them falling down

I’d lots of little crosses that I laid upon the dead

Then I patched up all the wounded ones and sent them home to bed

One day I bought some aeroplanes but here was what I found

When I sent them in with bombs to help my army on the ground

They bombed up every soldier there and proved a sorrowful flop

I had to buy another hundred crosses from the shop

Cos I put them up on the table and I marched them all around

Then I battered them with the cannonballs and watched them falling down

I’d lots of little crosses that I laid upon the dead

Then I patched up all the wounded ones and sent them home to bed

I would very much like if I could teach this little game of guns

To my seven beautiful daughters and my fourteen lovely sons

But the man in the shop, he gave me down a bomb from off the shelf

It blew up every soldier, all me neighbours and meself

Cos I put them up on the table and I marched them all around

Then I battered them with the cannonballs and watched them falling down

I’d lots of little crosses that I laid upon the dead

Then I patched up all the wounded ones and sent them home to bed