Don McLean – 1967 (Guitar)

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In Nineteen Sixty Seven the draft caught up with me,

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me and my pal Joe went off to war.

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We might find hero's heaven, but we'd keep the country free.

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We would surely win just like before.

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Roy Rogers he was on his horse, 

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and Buck Jones drew his gun.

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We would surely win of course 

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when the battle was all done.

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Nineteen Sixty Seven I came back alone,

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they brought Joe back in plastic on the plane.

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Nineteen Sixty Seven seems so long ago,

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but I can't forget my friend or ease my pain.

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His family may forget him, his children may regret him,

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his wife may find another and go on.

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His picture may grow faded and the world he knew gone jaded

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but as long as I shall live I surely know,

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I never will forget my buddy Joe.

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In Nineteen Sixty Seven, the war was raging on,

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our country was divided and reborn.

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Though I was back at home, I had never left Saigon,

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'cause all I got was ridicule and scorn.

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This was no place for hero's now, 

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they all seemed to resent me,

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They said "Why did you ever go?" 

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I said "Because they sent me."

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Nineteen Sixty Seven they buried my friend Joe,

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and I was flashing back while people wept.

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I thought of how he saved us and I watched the land-mine blow,

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and I looked down at his dog-tag that I kept.

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You'll always be a young man, you always will be smiling,

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you always will be confident and true.

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Your picture may grow faded and the world you knew gone jaded,

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but as long as I shall live I surely know,

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I never will forget my buddy Joe.

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Long as I shall live I surely know,

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I never will forget you buddy Joe.