Songtexte: Bob Dylan. Under The Red Sky. 10,000 Men.

Ten thousand men on a hill
Ten thousand men on a hill
Some of 'm goin' down
Some of 'm gonna get killed

Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue
Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue
Drummin' in the morning
In the evening they'll be coming for you

Ten thousand men on the move
Ten thousand men on the move
None of them doing nothin'
That your mama wouldn't disapprove

Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold
All clean shaven, all coming in from the cold

Hey, who could your lover be?
Hey, who could your lover be?
Let me eat off his head so you can really see

Ten thousand women all dressed in white
Ten thousand women all dressed in white
Standin' at my window wishing me goodnight

Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail
Each one of 'em got seven wives
Each one of 'em just out of jail

Ten thousand women all sweepin' my room
Ten thousand women all sweepin' my room
Spilling my buttermilk, sweeping it up with a broom

Ooh, baby, thank you for my tea
Baby, thank you for my tea
It's so sweet of you to be so nice to me