Big Time in the Jungle Songtext
von Old Crow Medicine Show
Big Time in the Jungle Songtext
Down in Eutaw, Alabama in 1965
A young man ′bout 21, no different than you or I
He's catchin′ catfish, and gettin' drunk
But Uncle Sam called, he called him up
Sent him out to Vietnam
That young man
Got his life turned upside down
Turned his smile into a frown
Robbed that king of his crown
For an ideal he didn't even know about
He was gamblin′ at the wagon when that army man showed up
And he flashed that pen and paper
And ol′ Flukie he signed up
There's gonna be a big time in the jungle
Gonna be a firefight
Gonna be a rumble
Send me out to Vietnam
I′ll fight ten men
I got nothin' left in the States for me
I wanna see the world you see
I know that Uncle Sam needs me
To fight for an ideal I know nothing about
Oh the drop point was dusty and the drill sergeant was loud
And he could not see the corpses for the ragin′ dust cloud
Grab your duffle bags, head to the checkpoint
Welcome to Vietnam, boys, you're in for a hell of a fight
Take it from the ones who know
The army moves slow
Hurry up and wait, don′t sleep late
And learn to hate your brother
Before you hate your foe
On patrol out in the rice fields, them choppers flew low
Glancing for the hand signal to tell you where to go
Then the bombs started fallin'
And they pounded his brain
And he thought about Eutaw and who was to blame
For sendin' him to Vietnam
A young man ′bout 21, no different than you or I
He's catchin′ catfish, and gettin' drunk
But Uncle Sam called, he called him up
Sent him out to Vietnam
That young man
Got his life turned upside down
Turned his smile into a frown
Robbed that king of his crown
For an ideal he didn't even know about
He was gamblin′ at the wagon when that army man showed up
And he flashed that pen and paper
And ol′ Flukie he signed up
There's gonna be a big time in the jungle
Gonna be a firefight
Gonna be a rumble
Send me out to Vietnam
I′ll fight ten men
I got nothin' left in the States for me
I wanna see the world you see
I know that Uncle Sam needs me
To fight for an ideal I know nothing about
Oh the drop point was dusty and the drill sergeant was loud
And he could not see the corpses for the ragin′ dust cloud
Grab your duffle bags, head to the checkpoint
Welcome to Vietnam, boys, you're in for a hell of a fight
Take it from the ones who know
The army moves slow
Hurry up and wait, don′t sleep late
And learn to hate your brother
Before you hate your foe
On patrol out in the rice fields, them choppers flew low
Glancing for the hand signal to tell you where to go
Then the bombs started fallin'
And they pounded his brain
And he thought about Eutaw and who was to blame
For sendin' him to Vietnam
Writer(s): Critter Fuqua Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com