Back in the height of the Vietnam era a little ditty made it onto the airwaves that protested the undeclared war in a darkly humorous way. It was called “I Feel Like I’m Fixin’ To Die Rag” by Country Joe and the Fish which became a theme for the war protest movement. Performing it at Woodstock thrust it to national attention and made it an anthem of counter culture America of the ’60’s. Now it belongs to the history of Hippie lore of that turbulent era, but I have pulled it out of the attic chest, aired it out a bit and present it here in a reincarnated form for our modern political situation. I offer it to you readers and songsters to peruse given our current preoccupation with yet another uppity foreign country that we can’t quite keep under our thumb. Washington war-hawks who strangely don’t have any military experience themselves are screaming to start another war which we, the uncombed masses, will have to fight for them. Here is an answer to their insistence:
The Fixin’ To Die Rag for this generation:
Well, c’mon all you big strong men
Uncle Sam needs your help again,
he’s got himself in a terrible jam
way off yonder in I-Iran.
So put down your books and pick up a gun
We’re gonna have a whole lotta fun!
Chorus (repeat throughout the song):
And it’s one, two, three,
what are we fightin’ for?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn
next stop is I-Iran!
And its five, six, seven
open up the pearly gates,
Well, there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! We’re all gonna die!
Trump says we must change the regime
before it gits even more extreme.
Why can’t we do what we done in ’41
without even using a single gun?
Depose the guy who would have made it free
and brought about Iranian democracy
and instead we put into their Casbah
a toady that they called ‘The Shah’.
Pahlavi got things done the way we said
leaving many tortured or even dead
until the Persians had had enough
and also started to play a little rough.
Going back to their Islamic roots
they kicked the Shah out with both their boots
And brought in someone also a meanie
I believe his name was something Khomeini.
We wondered why they hated us so
but the time came to reap what we’d sowed.
They got bold and a little bit sassy
and came and grabbed our embassy,
glued together the secret documents
telling how we screwed with their government.
Since then we’ve been each others worst nightmare
threatening each other on a dare.
So if Don and sons want to go a round
and pound Iran into the ground
Give them the chance to prove their mettle
before starting another soup in a Mideast kettle.
Put uniforms on these chicken-hawks
send them to fight, then watch how they squawk.
Let the two who want the war the most
see what it’s really like, then see if they boast.
Chorus
And it’s one, two, three,
what are we fightin’ for?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn
next stop is I-Iran!
And its five, six, seven
open up the pearly gates,
Well, there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! We’re all gonna die!