Uniform, The

A long time ago, when I was just a kid,
I did what all the other young folks did.
We watched the same shows and we played the same games
And everything we did, we all did the same.

We swore the same curses, we took the same dares,
We all touched the eagle at the top of the stairs,
Till the day that the leader of our pack
Decreed that all the cool kids must wear black.

        We wore green ankle gaiters, blue dungarees,
        Rumpled tan chinos rolled above the knees,
        Hats with patches everywhere, but sure as you're born,
        Ugliest of all was that uniform.

Now, it's hard for a young'un to resist the pack.
The next day I slowly dressed in black...
Then I tied a red bandana around my neck,
Grinned at the mirror and said, "What the heck,

        "I like green ankle gaiters, blue dungarees,
        Rumpled tan chinos rolled above the knees.
        My hat with patches everywhere is near outworn,
        But no one makes me put on a uniform!"

I got to the school, looked around for my crew.
All of them were wearing colors, too,
But for one lonely figure all in black:
The -- former -- leader of our pack.

        I saw green ankle gaiters, blue dungarees,
        Rumpled tan chinos rolled above the knees,
        Hats with patches everywhere, and nothing but scorn
        For the one who'd tried to put us in uniform.

Well, I finished my schooling, went out in the world,
Got a job and a family, a boy and a girl.
And since serving my country (as I'm proud to say)
[spoken:] I never have put on a uniform to this very day.

        I wear green ankle gaiters, blue dungarees,
        Rumpled tan chinos rolled above the knees,
        A suit with a colorful tie to adorn,
        But you'll never see me wearing a uniform.