Mercenaries Lyrics - Harry Chapin

Mercenaries 

by Harry Chapin 

It's a slow motion night 

In the hot city lights 

Past time when the good folks 

Are snoring in bed 

On a loose-jointed cruise 

To recolor your blues 

With illegal notions alive, 

Alive in your head 

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You are back from some war 

That you've been fighting for 

Some old blue blood bastard 

In a dark pinstripe suit 

and the word from your loins 

Has your mind in your groin 

And your back pocket burning with blood 

Blood money loot 

So, you walk past the glow 

Of the flicker-picture shows 

Where the raincoat men wait 

For a child to come by 

And the women in doorways 

Who have nothing to say 

'Cause your money is talking 

To the ones that you would try 

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She owns the block 

With the dead pawnshop clock 

She's the answer to dreams 

That you pay to come true 

She's got no heart of gold 

But that's not what she's sold 

She just sees herself doing what she 

What she has to do 

And she's all that you're hoping 

As her coat falls open 

Give her bread she leads you 

To a bed on the floor 

Where for ten million years 

And through ten billion tears 

The armies of bootmen have marched 

Back from their wars 

She's in that state of grace 

Before time finds her face 

With a mind of old wisdoms 

And a body still young 

And she tastes as sweet 

As a child's chocolate 

Before the butts and the whiskey 

Had wasted the taste of your tongue 

Play the music again 

Of the grey-stubble men 

That groaning blue symphony 

Moans evermore 

And you watch as she fakes it 

And of course you just take it 

She's better than others 

You never paid money for 

You've used up your booty 

The girl's done her duty 

The turnstile has turned 

And you learn you are done 

You're back on the street 

Joining fresh marching feet 

You see more soldiers coming 

And your girl chooses one 

And the medic has brought 

Shots for what you have caught 

Your leave is all over 

You're back on the line 

And the joke in the trenches 

Of the hot blooded wenches 

And the next thing that you'll do 

When they next give you the tim. 

And you're back in your army 

Back shedding red blood 

And you dream of the girl 

As you sleep in the mud 

And you know you'd swap with her 

If the deal could be made 

'Cause you'd rather be working at love 

Love as your trade