Things are in a jam down in Vietnam,
People down there don't dig Uncle Sam.
Rule by the people just can't be wrong,
And the people down there are the Viet Cong.
Well, you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone.
Got a letter the other day, it said, "Greetings, son,
We want you in our war, come and get your gun".
I wrote Sam a letter, had to tell him no,
I'm a real freedom fighter, so I just can't go.
And you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone.
I almost went to jail for the thirteenth time,
When a Nazi threw red paint on my picket sign,
I heard him yell, "Don't be misled by red,"
I don't think he listened to a thing he said.
Well, you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone.
The voice from 'cross the barricade shouts, "Give us joy!"
The voice from 'cross the barricade shouts, "Bomb Hanoi!"
There's a CIA confession that they call "I spy",
Where living color Cosby helps to sell the big lie.
Well, you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone.
Take your hands off Asia's throat,
Put your dominos away and let the people vote;
I gave up cigarettes 'cause they kept me broke
And draft cards make a much more healthy smoke.
And you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone!
People down there don't dig Uncle Sam.
Rule by the people just can't be wrong,
And the people down there are the Viet Cong.
Well, you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone.
Got a letter the other day, it said, "Greetings, son,
We want you in our war, come and get your gun".
I wrote Sam a letter, had to tell him no,
I'm a real freedom fighter, so I just can't go.
And you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone.
I almost went to jail for the thirteenth time,
When a Nazi threw red paint on my picket sign,
I heard him yell, "Don't be misled by red,"
I don't think he listened to a thing he said.
Well, you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone.
The voice from 'cross the barricade shouts, "Give us joy!"
The voice from 'cross the barricade shouts, "Bomb Hanoi!"
There's a CIA confession that they call "I spy",
Where living color Cosby helps to sell the big lie.
Well, you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone.
Take your hands off Asia's throat,
Put your dominos away and let the people vote;
I gave up cigarettes 'cause they kept me broke
And draft cards make a much more healthy smoke.
And you're wrong, Sam, scram!
Don't you know you'd better git gone!
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