Scorn Of The Women
Weddings Parties Anything
Letra

Scorn of the Women â€“ Weddings, Parties, Anything
                                                                    
                                                                   
I remember respectfully like others before me
                                                                    
All those folk who fell in the war
                                                                    
And I hear you singing songs of lamentation
                                                                    
But I don’t wish to hear them no more
                                                                    
What did you do in the time of the war? It’s a question asked by everyone
                                                                    
I stood in a line my screwdriver in hand making aircraft out at Laverton
                                                                    
                                    
   So don’t sing no songs about Waltzing Matilda
                                                                       
   Don’t tell me I tried, don’t tell me I failed
                                                                       
   For all I recall is the scorn of the women
                                                                       
   And a white feather that I received in the mail
                                                                    
                                                                
I remember the day I went down to enlist
                                                                   
And they said â€œRead this chart on the wall”
                                                                   
I remember the tone of the voice of the doctor
                                                                    
As he said to me: â€œThat will be all. Thank you very much”
                                                                    
Riding home slowly I sat on my tram not sure if to laugh or to cry
                                                                    
For to train in the camps, sure, a man needs his lamps
                                                                    
And a good soldier he must have good eyes
                                                                    
Chorus
                                                                    
                                                                 
Well it takes more than bullets to murder and maim
                                                                    
Whether worn down or beaten a death’s still a death
                                                                    
And you know sometimes when I think back to the forties
                                                                   
I pray for my very last breath
                                                                    
You know I have nothing against those who fought
                                                                    
But for Christ’s sake we do what we can
                                                                    
And there’s more than one way that you can skin a cat
                                                                    
And there’s more than one way you can cripple a man
                                                                    
Chorus