Talking Vietnam Pot Luck Blues

Tonight in Person BBC, London, 1970

Tom Paxton, 1968 6.5 MB / 320 Kbps

When I landed in Vietnam, I hardly got to see Saigon. They shaped us up and called the roll And off we went on a long patrol. Swappin' lies, swattin' flies, Firing the odd shot here and there. The captain called a halt that night And we had chow by the pale moonlight. A lovely dinner they planned for us With a taste like a seat on a crosstown bus. Some o' the veterans (just) left theirs layin' in the cans For the Viet Cong to find - Deadlier, than a land mine. Well, naturally somebody told a joke And a couple o' the fellas began to smoke. I took a whiff as the cloud rolled by And my nose went up, like an infield fly. The captain, this blonde fella from Yale, he looked at me and said, "What's the matter with you, baby?" "Well, I may be crazy, but I think, not. I'd swear to God that I smell pot. But who'd have pot in Vietnam?" He said, "What do you think, you('ve) been sittin' on?" These funny little plants, thousands of them! Good God Almighty, pastures of plenty! Well, we all lit up and by and by The whole platoon was flyin' high With a beautiful smile on the captain's face. He smelled, like midnight on St. Mark's Place Cleaning his weapon, chanting the Hare Krishna. The moment came, as it comes to all, When I had to answer nature's call. I was stumblin' around in a beautiful haze, When I met a little cat in black PJs. Rifle, ammo belt, B.F. Goodrich sandals, He looked up at me and said, "Whatsa matta wit-choo, baby?" He said, "We're campin' down the pass And smelled you people blowin' grass And since by the smell you're smokin' trash, I brought you a taste of a special stash Straight from Uncle Ho's victory garden. We call it Hanoi Gold." So his squad and my squad settled down And passed some lovely stuff around. All too soon i' was time to go. The captain got on the radio, said, "Hello, headquarters! We have met the enemy And i' has been smashed."