Lyrics White Boots Marching In a Yellow Land - Eric Andersen
It's
written
in
the
ashes
of
the
village
towns
we
burn
It's
written
in
the
empty
bed
of
the
fathers
unreturned
And
the
chocolate
in
the
children's
eyes
will
never
understand
When
you're
white
boots
marching
in
a
yellow
land
Red,
blow
the
bugles
of
the
dawn
The
morning
has
arrived,
you
must
be
gone
And
the
lost
patrol
chase
their
chartered
souls
Like
cold
whores
following
tired
armies
Train
them
well,
the
men
who
will
be
fighting
by
your
side
And
never
turn
your
back
if
the
battle
turns
the
tide
For
the
colors
of
a
civil
war
are
louder
than
commands
When
you're
white
boots
marching
in
a
yellow
land
Blow
them
from
the
forest
and
burn
them
from
your
sight
Tie
their
hands
behind
their
back
and
question
through
the
night
But
when
the
firing
squad
is
ready
They'll
be
spitting
where
they
stand
At
the
white
boots
marching
in
a
yellow
land
Red,
blow
the
bugles
of
the
dawn
The
morning
has
arrived,
you
must
be
gone
And
the
lost
patrol
chase
their
chartered
souls
Like
cold
whores
following
tired
armies
The
comic
and
the
beauty
queen
are
dancing
on
the
stage
Raw
recruits
are
lining
up
like
coffins
in
a
cage
We're
fighting
in
a
war,
we
lost
before
the
war
began
We're
the
white
boots
marching
in
a
yellow
land
And
the
lost
patrol
chase
their
chartered
souls
Like
cold
whores
following
tired
armies
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