When I left my home and my family
My mother said to me
"Son, it's not how many Germans you kill that counts
It's how many people you set free! "

So I packed my bags
Brushed my cap
Walked out into the world
Seventeen years old
Never kissed a girl

Took the train to Voronezh
That was as far as it would go
Changed my sacks for a uniform
Bit my lip against the snow
I prayed for mother Russia
In the summer of '43
And as we drove the Germans back
I really believed
That God was listening to me

We howled into Berlin
Tore the smoking buildings down
Raised the red flag high
Burnt the reichstag brown
I saw my first American
And he looked a lot like me
He had the same kinda farmer's face
Said he'd come from some place called Hazzard, Tennessee