When I see our young men going off to war
I wonder if our brothers know
Just what they're fighting for
When I see a mother cryin'
I wonder what's the use of tryin'
It's the young who have to do the dyin'
According to the plan...
Little baby in his playpen, with his toy gun
Tiny soldier, in the meadow
Playin' war is fun!
Much too soon, this time will pass
Much too soon, the cannons flash
Nothing green can really last
According to the plan...
(According to the plan...
Make a mortal man
Death always holds his hand...
According to the plan...)
Birthdays end for little boys
When they reach 18
One day, a child, the next, a man
With no time in between
He puts a gun upon his shoulder
Doubts that he will grow much older
While he feels the world growin' colder
According to the plan...
(According to the plan...
Make a mortal man
Death always holds his hand...
According to the plan...)