For all the fathers

So, great news. It looks like we’re getting very close to requiring young women to register for the draft. Ah, the apex of feminism! Finally, we’ll have real equality: Men and women will both have an equal opportunity to become slaves, forced to go kill and die for the state.

I’ve been feeling inspired by David Martin (co-author of The Martyrdom of Thomas Merton — see episode 31 of the podcast), who writes excellent parodies. I think there is a parody that could be written about this: It would be called: “Daddy’s, Don’t Let Your Daughters Grow Up to Be Draftees” to the tune of the ol’ Waylon Jennings song, of course. But the problem is, I have limited creative juices right now, what with my 9-to-5 and the podcast. David says he does too.

Maybe we can collaborate, all of us.

Here’s a couple of lines I came up with…

Draftees are easy to love but they’re harder to hold
They’d rather live their own life than do what they’re told…

And another…

Daddy’s’ don’t let your daughters grow up to be draftees
Don’t let ’em pick up guns and drive Army trucks
Let ’em be healers and mothers and such…


Here’s all the lyrics. Comment if you come up with something!

Cowboys ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold
They’d rather give you a song then diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi’s and each night begins a new day
If you don’t understand him and he don’t die young
He’ll probably just ride away

Mamas’ don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars or drive them old trucks
Let ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mamas’ don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
‘Cause they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they loveCowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornin’s
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
Them that don’t know him won’t like him
And them that do sometimes won’t know how to take him
He ain’t wrong he’s just different
But his pride won’t let him do things to make you think he’s rightMama don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Let ’em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
‘Cause they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they loveMamas’ don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ’em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Let ’em be doctors and lawyers and such

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